Damsel in Distress
by SLuzie
Summary: A blonde and blueyedgirl stumbles out of the woods and into the arms of Dean Winchester. What more can I say? THIS IS NOT FINISHED AND PROBABLY NEVER WILL BE. JEEZ, THANK MY (deaf and mute) MUSE...
1. Chapter 1

The ice cold air penetrated her lungs, burning between her ribs as she desperately tried to force her

lean body to relax. She was out of breath, leaning over with her hands pressed on her wobbly

knees. The lump in her throat forced a rough scoff through her cracked lips, squeezing her ribcage

painfully. A darkbrown leaf stuck to her freckled cheek and absentmindedly she rubbed it off,

smearing cold dew against her frozen skin which led to a violent series of goosebumps, slowly

shivering down her grimy legs. Her blue eyes followed the chilly feeling down her body and

reached her bare feet that were caked in mud, dirt and blood from running over sticks and stones.

With a small cough she forced more air down to her lungs and tried to scratch some of the dirt of,

rubbing her soles against an old tree, rotting in the dark forest. The goosebumps continued and she

could feel herself stiffen as a waft of winter wind hit her bare back and legs. She knew she was as

good as dead if you just continued to stand there. Wherever "there" was anyhow…

Without any regards to her maltreated body the blond woman continued on a way through the

forest only she could see. Or maybe she didn´t see it anymore, her only thought was to follow the

very last rays of sunshine that fought to be seen through prickly bushes and leafless trees.

Branches snapped at her, rocks deliberately fell into her way and cut her feet, the wind was

always angling to hurt her exposed body. And while she tried to remain going forward - her mind

tried to piece together how she ended up in the middle of nowhere.

The first thing coming to her mind was pain, not the scorching overwhelming kind, but a steady

tugging at her body, a constant aching in her bones that made her feel like a lifeless shell of

herself. Her dried mouth opened as she tried licking her own lips which cracked the corners of her

mouth, leaving yet another trickling of blood on her pale skin. Without any force she swept it

away and ordered her body to continue. The pain of walking hours on end, being naked and so,

so cold - through an unknown forest in the middle of late fall – left her body and mind numb to its

need. But the pain of waking up; disoriented, weak and hungry was still present, lingering in her

thoughts so that she just had to stop thinking altogether. And that guarded another small riddle in

her head, she couldn´t remember anything before this morning. The more she frowned her blonde

brows together, the more her head hurt trying to think about anything other than this damn forest.

Her name would have been a good start, but it just wouldn´t come to mind. Clasping her dirty and

bruised arms around her upper body she tried to shield her breasts against another waft of ice cold

wind. Stumbling through a small trickle of water she plunged into the greyish water. She didn´t

even noticed before but after a few sips her mouth wasn´t as dry and hurt anymore, her lungs didn

´t burn as much and her cracked lips seemed to stop bleeding. With a deep sigh she tried to get to

her feet again her long legs wobbly and unsteady, till she had to grab a tree and lean against it for

support.

The sun was gone by the time the blonde, naked woman managed to start walking again and she

could feel the temperature drop even further. Without so much as even a lint of clothing on her

body she was exposed to every whim of mother nature and started a violent shivering. Her teeth

began clasping together, making a gruesome clapping sound. Some mean branches got stuck in

her long, unkempt hair, forcing her to stop and pluck it free. Her shaking hands managed after a

while and she had to drag her body up again, up and forward, her willpower the only thing

preventing her from just lying down and die. In the whispering of the windshaken trees she found

some strength, even thou the wind made her face freeze over yet again as her unnoticed tears

began rolling down bruised cheeks. Not knowing where she was she couldn´t possibly know

where she was going, but the rumpling of her stomach and the smallest hope to find shelter kept

her upright. Yawning she dodged a few fallen trees, too tired and hurt to climb over them and

forced herself further, one foot in front of the other, just going, going forward, one step, another

step. And one more.

Her mind settled into a quiet that would have been disturbing would she have noticed herself. But

she was too focused on not freezing to death. And so she forgot about her unknown name or why

she was there, even forgot why she had to continue on her way, forgot that her body was beyond

cold, her soles beyond bleeding and her skin littered with small scratches and bruises.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

`I´m getting to old for this shit` Dean thought, trying to get out of baby without waking Sam, who

was still sleeping in the backseat. Rubbing his cold hands together he went a few meters to a dark

brown thicket, starting the day with his normal routine. Without toilets anywhere close he had to

use some bushes and brush his teeth with bottled water. There hadn´t been enough money to find

a motel yesterday and even though it was nearly winter the Winchester Brothers decided to sleep

one night in the car, too tired to drive any further. His damp jeans stuck to his body as he pulled

his zipper up, watching the first hint of a new day slowly turning the horizon in a reddish golden

dawn. His breath stayed in the air like small clouds, the cold morning air making Dean shiver in

his leather jacket. With another glance to his black car and sleeping brother he searched for a

power bar in one of his pockets, munching happily on what no one else would consider breakfast.

But for the tall guy it was enough to start his day, even though he would have appreciated a hot

coffee even more.

Since it had been already dark when they decided to stop he hadn´t seen where exactly he had

parked, but with the sky turning brighter Dean could distinguish between different shadows and

recognized a very small parking place. There was a short rail on one end, preventing people from

falling down a steep slope into one of the darkest and thickest forest he had even seen. It reminded

him of the Wendigo he had hunted together with Sam, when his younger brother joined him on

the search for their father. There was a bench there too and a wooden table, ideal for a short break,

enjoying the view along the road. The small pebble under his boots swallowed his steps as he

went to lean against the railing.

Behind him he could hear stirring on the pavement, a loud thump as someone rumpled against his

car and feet being dragged slowly. "Dude watch it" Dean turned around, clearly expecting to see

Sam trying to get his long legs in order while climbing out of the impala. Rubbing his hands

together once more his movement froze as it wasn´t his brown-haired brother in front of him.

Instead there was a very naked woman clutching her dirty fingers against his Baby, obviously

trying to keep herself up at any costs. Her freezing body looked so pale that the freckles on her

shoulders and arms seemed to be black instead of a light brown. It could still be the dim light of

the starting day but Dean was sure he could see shadows between her ribs, indicating how slim

she really was. Dragging his shocked glance higher he saw the bruises and mud on her upper

body, something that looked like moss sticking to her collarbone and her tense stance, not even

trying to hide her breasts. Or even her more southern region. Opening his mouth to say something

Dean just stood there, gaping at her. It could have been seconds or maybe even an hour, but she

didn´t say anything, just watched him intently, grabbing the trunk of his car as if her life depended

on it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When the first streaks of sunlight hit the forest and fought against the damp mist rising from the

frozen ground the woman was still walking, even if her body was more asleep than awake. Her

stomach sank and rumbled angrily, but there wasn´t anything she could eat. The few bushes that

still had berries on them where unknown to her and the bright red colors of the berries made her

flinch away. Without so much as even a sharp rock to throw she couldn´t hunt for small game, not

that she had noticed any. She was too loud anyway and scared every rabbit away before her

exhausted body would be able to react. Everything felt like being wrapped in a big bubble of

numbness, she knew she hurt herself when crawling up a steep slope, her knuckles started

bleeding again, the dark red liquid mixing with brown dirt and black mud. But she didn´t felt

anything. And it didn´t even scared her anymore.

Reaching the ridge the faint buzzing of traffic reached her ears and for the first time in what felt

like forever her sigh was of some kind of relief and not pain. Once more ignoring the small gravel

and sharp pinches under her soles she continued dragging her heavy limps. And then there it was.

Civilization. Well, whatever that meant when seeing just one car and one guy. Without thinking

about it she crept forward into the sunlight and squeezed her eyes shut, while grabbing the trunk

of his car to keep from falling over. A few seconds past and he was still just looking at her,

drinking in her tortured body. But the blonde woman had eyes only for his power bar, half eaten

and forgotten in his hand. Her stomach once more grumbled and the urgency could be heard by

him, too. Frowning he looked down and back to her again, seeing her shaking hands reaching out

and unconsciously took a step in her direction.

"Dean…?" The deep voice of the younger Winchester disrupted the silence in the parking place

and while he still tried to understand why a naked woman was standing near Baby, she twitched

violently. Turning around her body grounded itself in a secured stance and her hands flew up,

forming fists, ignoring the loud crackling in her knuckles. Within a blink of an eye she had Sams

long body pressed against the car, her hand closed around his neck with just enough pressure to

show him that he shouldn´t move. Her reflexes impressed Dean but he could also see that her

maltreated body hadn´t the strength to truly hurt his brother. Sam seemed to have noticed too, his

brown eyes were calm and his breathing slow and steady. "Hey" Dean said with a firm voice and

waiting till her blue eyes left his brother and she turned her head in his direction. Offering the

other half of his power bar he took a few small steps towards her. A few birds flew past the eerie

scene and their croaking made her look at Dean, her stomach instantly reacting to the offered food

with a loud and aggressive rumbling. Snatching it from him she shoves everything in her mouth,

letting the foil glide to the pavement, trying to chew and swallow at the same time. Her cheeks

bulge like a hamsters but she lets Sam go and even steps away from him.

With a deep breath Sam is finally fully awake and observes the situation, with her shaking body

and her rush to eat, she reminded him more of a scared animal than a human. He can see fresh

blood, bruises and so much dirt that she could have merged into the scenery. Her blond hair

seemed like it had never seen a brush or been washed, her fingernails were bitten off rather than

cut neatly and she was not far away from freezing her limps off. The blueish shimmer on her lips

and the dark circles under her astonishing blue eyes just accented that and he began feeling chilly

just watching her. Without hesitation he took his flannel shirt off and waited till she had forced

everything down before stretching his arm out to her, offering at least some form of clothing.

"Tha… Thanks!" Her fist bumped against her collarbone, not only helping the last remains of the

power bar down her throat but also her voice to sound somewhat normal. She couldn´t remember

when she had spoken the last time – or ever. And her voice sounded exactly like that, raspy and

weak, like she had been screaming for years and then just stopped using it altogether. Her eyes

stared at Sam for a few seconds, keeping the dark red flannel in her grip without putting it on, till

the shivering reminded her of her cold body. "Socks?" she asks hesitantly and finally pulls the

thick fabric over her head. It reaches a little bit under her ass, making the brothers realize how tall

she is. Dean huffs and tries to hide a smirk when her head snaps around at the sound. Her body

language is more relaxed, but she still seems jumpy, reminding him of a skittish horse in an old

western he watched last week. Sam, helpful as ever, searches for a pair of clean socks in his duffel

and Dean finds another power bar in his pockets that he willingly offers.

The three of them stay silent while she nibbles on the chocolate coated bar and Sam puts on a

jacket to keep himself warm. Dean rubs his hand over his face and the brothers have a silent

conversation, already knowing that his younger brother wants to take her with them, at least to the

next hospital. But Dean isn´t sure. There is something about her … something he can´t tell his

brother through one of his long stares. Or even put into words. She looks like she escaped a serial

killer, worse than every female lead role in a horror movie and still attacked Sam when he had

scared her earlier. Her first reflex when scared was to attack! Something he was more than familiar

with and something a civilian just wouldn´t do. His guts told him there was more to the story and a

tugging in his heart made him watch her again. With all the mud on her it was impossible for the

hunter to really see her, but the dark soil in her face, mixed with blood and dust, made her intense

blue eyes even brighter. Images of glaciers wavered through his minds eyes, a deep and

enthralling feeling of width and calmness.

"What´s your name?" he asks in the silence and her eyes snap shut for a second before she just

shrugs. "You don´t know?" asks Sam incredulous and casts a worried glance towards Dean. "I

don´t" she says, her voice as raspy as before, but at least the shivering lessened. With her arms

folded around her upper body she looks more like a lost child than a grown woman and both

Dean and Sam take a step forward. It´s nothing the hunters would have noticed themselves, but

their urge to help people was strongly triggered. "So, where are you from?" Sam asks next, his

worries covered with a friendly smile. "I don´t know" her eyes watch another group of birds. "I

don´t remember anything except running through that damned forest. Been doing that for the last

day or so. No people, no water, no food." A deep breath follows that statement and she muses

over the deeply troubled expressions on their faces. "Do you have water?" Sam nods and gives

her a half empty bottle of stale tap water, their last resources which he usually would have used to

brush his teeth.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaims and rubs his hands together again, the cold weather creeping up

his bowed legs.


	2. Chapter 2

"You can´t wear those" Sam says as he hands over a pair of clean socks. "You´re feet look …

horrible, they just get infected." His warm brown eyes followed her scraped skin down to her dirty

feet, but she just stood still and watched him instead. "Just point me in the direction for a hospital

or something" her voice grows steadier the longer they talk and even though she still shakes from

the cold she seems calmer, too. His long hair sways a little as Sam shakes his head. Dean already

knows it and just nods with a raised brow as their glances meet. The younger Winchester clears

his throat and takes another step in her general direction, seemingly not worried she would attack

him again.

"We can take you with us. At least for a while till you feel better. But we´d have to … test you

first. It might seem weird, but it´s just a precaution. If you don´t mind." Kind eyes watch her and

await some kind of reaction. It takes a while, at least a few minutes, till she nods and puts the

socks in the small pocket of the flannel. Dean reaches for a small flask in his jacket and has her

drink from it, the salted holy water making her cough but not bursting into pain or black smoke.

His lips curl into a small smirk, her reaction confirming his initial feeling about her, before

searching for a silver knife. But it's his younger brother that provides it, unsure if they really

should do it. "Look at her" he says, watching Dean with a pleading expression.

"What?" her voice brakes through their stares and Dean sighs. "Normally I would cut you with

this, but my dear brother here thinks you´re already bruised enough."

"Cut me?" The blonde woman looks from Sam to Dean and back and to the astonishment of both

just shrugs. "What's one more, eh?" her still blueish lips smirk for the shortest amount of seconds

and she reaches after the blade, cutting the skin right above her knee deep enough for it to bleed.

Without flinching she gives the knife back. "Anything else?" When both brothers shake their

heads all three of them turn towards baby. "She is beautiful." The woman mumbles under her

breath, a single finger gliding over the shining black impala and Dean just grins openly. Sam just

rolls his eyes at the irritating feeling of Deans superior feeling over a car and gets the blanket he

used and pulls it over the backseat.

When everyone is seated and the soft rumble of the car is heard over the rock music from the radio

she begins to lowly hum. The expressive green eyes of Dean watch her through the mirror before

he slaps his brother's chest with the back of his hands. "She hums Metallica" he says smiling as if

Sam hadn´t noticed already. The silence that settles between them is a mixture of comfort and

foreboding, slightly eager on her behalf. Her need to relax is a battle she doesn't want to loose and

whenever her eye lids get heavy she just takes a deep breath and stares straight forward. "Where

are we going?"

Her voice fits perfectly between two songs and Dean turns the radio down a little. "The next motel

we find is ours, princess. You could use a shower, a burger and a beer." He smiles at her, beaming

his pearly teeth at her, trying to comfort her the only way he knows regarding female strangers.

"You need some stitches and antibiotics before that" Sam disrupts the flirtation from his left side

and turns around to look at her. "How are you feeling? Why were you in that forest?" He just can

´t wait to find out about her and she looks at him, her expression painfully empty. "I really don´t

know. I woke up in that forest, puked, got up and just started walking." The nonchalant shrug of

her shoulders doesn´t convince Sam, he doesn´t want to push her even though her blue eyes are

wide open and not hiding anything. The longer he stares into the depths that are the bluest eyes he

has ever seen the more he feels like he had known her for an entire lifetime already. The car sways

abruptly and Sam sits back, an irritated glance towards Dean who just hums a little, looking

especially innocent. With a vexed sigh he opens his laptop, throwing himself into research and

searching for anything that helps with short-time memory loss and dehydration.

Dean on the other hand can´t keep his mossy stare off her for long and keeps watching her in the

rear mirror for a few seconds at a time. At first he hadn't noticed but a bump above her left brow

kept building up, a deep greenish bruise showing between some dried dirt that slowly falls off

with every move of her head. Way too used to bruises and wounds he knows for sure that this one

is older and would have first showed puffy and purple. With time around two or three days

regarding how speedy her skin heals it´d turn blue, than green and after that a sickly yellow before

finally fading away. So, in his mindset, someone did this to her and did it a couple of days ago.

Someone hurt her and left her for good, maybe not even expecting her to survive the torture.

Maybe planning on it. If she would have died in that forest no one would have found her body in

that remote ditch of a forest. Well, maybe some unfortunate hunters. Bear hunters. Not Hunters

like his father or his brother or he himself. His hand rubs against the short stubble, not wanting to

think about who could be asshole enough to do that to her. Or why she wasn´t a hyperventilating

ball of anxiety.

Her dark voice began to hum again and his eyes flew back to her, fidgeting on the dark blanket as

she tried to find a more comfortable position. "You´re ok?" he asked, before he noticed how

stupid this question really was. Of course she was not ok, not even close. "Yeah, my ass hurts"

she tries to smile, except it looks more like a deformed grin. It was clear to him that she was in

pain and just putting on a brave face in front of two strangers. "I think I have a sliver of wood …

around there."

Trying to reach her own butt cheek she leans to one side, totally carefree that Dean knows she is

naked under the flannel which slides upwards now. Even Sam tries to watch her contort her own

body but shies away after just a few seconds. Her movement opens up a set of scratches on her

upper thigh, the dark red blood slowly dripping. It was moments like this that he was glad his

brother was with him, the blanket shielding baby from getting blood all over the backseat. And

hell did he know how hard it was to scrub this shit off.

After a while silence settles once again between them, the half-naked blonde wrapping herself in

the blanket like a wrap and snuggling between the backseat and the window, not able to hold her

body up any longer. "Great song" Her sleepy voice nearly inaudible as yet another Metallica song

weavers through the air and Dean watches her heavy eyes close as she sinks into a deep sleep.

"You think it´s warm enough?" Dean is still worried and sees her motionless body relax even

further. His fingers fiddle with the impalas heating. "What do you think happened to her?" The

older brother asks quietly so he wouldn´t wake her. "Dean… I don´t know. She doesn´t know

either and from what I gather that could be just about anything. People with PTSD tend to forget

whatever triggered the PTSD in the first place. She could have fallen on her head, having a trauma

that causes the memory loss. Someone could have hit her. Or she could be lying." Sam turns once

more and watches the little of her face that wasn´t covered by dirty hair or the dark blanket. "At

least she seems human."

"Seems?" Dean raises just one brow, not locking at Sam directly. Not that he would have needed

to, they had always had that kind of connection and Sam just knew what irked the other hunter.

"She isn´t possessed. Or a vampire or a wer-whatever. We did every test we could with what we

have. She eats, drinks and sleeps. No lust for human hearts so far."

Dean made light of the situation, as he always did. Sam's mouth twisted into what Dean called a

bitchface and they both stayed silent. "We should name her" Dean said with a smirk and watched

her once more. Her deep breathing rattled a little but the older Winchester just turned up the music

and hit the pedal.

Two hours later they stopped for gas and bought some snacks (and pie!) at a small gas station

which actually had a flyer from a motel at the register. She slept during the stop, her lean body so

motionless she could have been just a bag of dirty clothing. Something that Dean appreciated,

even though she wasn´t doing it wittingly, but her keeping her head down was exactly what they

needed. Explaining a beaten up, starved and naked woman in his backseat wasn´t something he

would like to do. Especially not to a concerned officer – still, he leaned over and checked her

pulse. It was strong and steady. Maybe she just slept like that? Completely motionless like a

corpse? Was it the exhaustion? Dean just opted for the letter and let her be, till Sam was back and

the three of them on the road again.

It took about another half hour to finally find the motel called "Maxima", its big red sign withered

by rain and old age. Sam just made another bitch face, would it hurt for them to at least try to look

well-maintained!? Another molding room in another generic motel in another nondescript town.

And on and on it went. With a sigh he took off to rent out a room with one of the many credit

cards they "got" and Dean parked, sipping the last of his nearly cold coffee. "Hey" he said loud

after turning off the music, but their precious cargo didn´t move. "Hey" he tried again, turning

around and cautiously rubbing what he expected to be her thighs. When nothing happened he got

out of the car and went around opening up a door as Sam unlocked the motel room and grabbed

their stuff from the trunk. With a small grunt he had her in his arm, like a knocked out sushi roll,

carrying her into the room.

Her arm fell out of the blanket and some of her hair too and while Dean was watching if someone

was watching him, he hit her shoulder against the doorframe. The low thump made him flinch and

Sam watched with big eyes as she finally stirred and an aggressive hiss came out from the sushi

roll. Within a split second she had abrasively wriggled herself free, the blanket fell to her feet and

her big eyes scanning her surroundings. It took a few seconds for her to register that she wasn´t in

immediate danger. The transition from her hard stare, her fierce body language and her fingers

curled into fists back into just a hurt and tired woman was immense and happened within seconds.

She looked like she had seen more than one war and was tired of it. The kind of tired that sleep

wouldn´t fix. Her whole body language spoke of defeat as she hugged herself. Her breath

accelerated as she hobbled painfully onto the couch.

"Close the door please" she said weakly, making both guys move after they just had been

watching her. They sprang into motion simultaneously and not only closed the door but the

curtains, too. As it was still early afternoon the sun was able to shine through the beige curtains, it

was clear she needed the privacy. Sam began searching through his duffel bag and found not only

some pain killers but a new first aid kit he had bought a few towns over. Now he was glad he didn

´t have to use whiskey and floss on her. He poured two pills into his hand, with another glance at

her he poured two more and walked over. "This should help" he said encouraging and waited till

she swallowed and drank some water. "Thank you" her blue eyes seemed even bluer in the half

light and she tried to smile, but it just made her lip crack open again. She groaned and tried to get

up, her muscles striking against what they obviously deemed a stupid idea. With Dean grabbing

one arm and Sam the other they managed to get her on her feet again, where she wobbled a little

and forced herself to breathe deeply to avoid a circulatory collapse. Small black dots danced

before her eyes.

"Easy princess" Dean tried to calm her, letting her lean into him and just waited till the worst

washed over her. "I have to pee" she mumbled and they slowly made their way to the rosy

bathroom. Sam, momentarily jobless, took the keys and went to grab some food. "Make her

shower" he just said and Dean nodded as he helped her sit down on the toilet.

"You´re going to watch, princess?" she asked him, using the same nickname he had used and he

shook his head, leaving the room. As he closed the room it dawned upon him. "I´m Dean by the

way. Dean Winchester. And the Sasquatch is my younger brother Sam." He said loud enough to

be heard and took his jacket off, hanging it over a chair by the small table at the kitchenette. It was

quiet in the bathroom and he just let her be for a while, grabbing one of the beers they had bought

at the gas station. After he swallowed half of it he could hear the toilet rushing, but the door didn´t

opened. After a few seconds he heard the shower instead and drank the other half of his bear.

"Dean?" His name was shouted and his long legs carried him instantly to the bathroom. Not

knowing what was amiss he stopped his hand on the door knob. "Do you want me to come in?"

"Yeah. Please." The raspy sound was gone from her voice, but she sounded exhausted and close

to fainting. With a deep breath he opened the door and saw her naked under the water, her pale

skin mostly clean. Her hands shivered violently and she had to grab onto the wall to keep from

falling. "I can´t keep my arms up. Can you wash my hair?" she asked innocently. It was ironic,

given that Dean was the one she wanted to help her. But he noticed nothing sexual about her

question, not even something sensual. She just needed help – his help. So he ignored his dry

mouth and kept his eyes above her collarbone, willing himself to be a gentleman for once. "Just let

me grab my shampoo. Maybe you should sit down?"

Her long legs folded and she sank down, the warm spray of water on her head. But now she had

turned her back to him and he swallowed before leaving her again. His blue shampoo bottle was

somewhere in his duffel and he hoped she didn´t want some other stuff, something that smelled …

girly. Back in the bathroom he pulled the shower head down so she could keep washing her legs,

before he got down to his knees behind her. "I´ve never done something like this. So when you

get soap in your eyes, I have officially warned you." Again, Dean tried to make light of the

situation and he could see her nod. "I have the distinct feeling I experienced worse than shampoo

in my eyes."

And this was something that Dean could affirm, now more than ever. Her body was lean, way too

close to being undernourished for his taste, every breath she took he could see the bones on her

back sticking out. Most of her skin was bruised and in every color of the rainbow, a few of them

bigger than his hand. The few places that weren´t bruised were scratched and bleeding slightly.

The biggest wounds seemed to be two straight lines on her shoulder blades. Deep and bleeding

heavily it seemed someone ripped some flesh out of her back, but Dean wasn´t sure what kind of

monster would leave such marks. He could see the dark red flesh of her muscles beneath it and

couldn´t bring himself to start washing her hair. It must hurt like … hell. And having shampoo

rinsing over the abused skin would hurt even more. "What happened to you?" he mumbles quietly

but she doesn´t react. The water splashes against her legs and he sees her twiddle on her left foot.

"Dean?" she asks again and halfway turning around.

He just swallows and looks at her, slowly raising one brow and stunned, that she doesn´t even

seem to care about the pain. Her pain threshold must be even higher than Sams! "Uh…" he finally

says and she looks at her foot again. "I think I have some glass in there, do you have tweezers?"

she asks as if she just wanted to know if there was another beer in the fridge. Dean nods and gets

up, his hands wet from her blood and he brings her the tweezers. Her blue eyes follow him and

when she sees his hands she takes a deep breath. "That bad?" Her voice seems weaker again and

he isn´t sure if its water or tears that roll of her cheeks. The older Winchester gets on his knees

again and begins to make her hair wet, not knowing how to answer that. "Tell me if I hurt you" he

just says after a while and sees her closing her eyes before nodding.

When he spreads the shampoo on her hair she takes a shocked breath, tensing up with her back

straight like a rod. A groan escapes her lips that sound more like what he is used to hear late at

night when he got lucky. But instead of making him smirk he freezes, too and waits what she does

next. Nothing happens for a few seconds till she seems to relax again. "Its fine" she says, trying to

pick the glass out of her foot instead of looking at him. Dean licks his lips and waits a couple of

seconds more before returning to his task. Again, she tenses up and wills her body to relax, her

hand reaching up, searching for something to hold onto. Finding just the tiles in that disgusting

rosy color she orders her body to relax and presses her lips together till they are nothing more than

a white, straight line. Cautiously Dean continues rubbing her scalp, feeling her up if she has a

bump there that pains her. Another moan, somewhat deeper and longer, is heard in the back of her

throat and she coughs it away. "You ok?" Dean asks again, not sure what the hell is going on.

"It feels … funny" she whispers and coughs again. "Just get it over with" she orders him in a

voice that clearly holds back on … something. Dean nods even though she can´t see it and hurries

along, rinsing out the shampoo and washing her hair a second time and a third time till the water is

finally clear when he washes it out. With a sigh he gets up afterwards, looking down on the

seemingly small frame of her, naked and wet, still with blood pooling around her. She turns her

upper body around a little bit and looks up to him, keeping the shower head to her neck, the

tweezers still in her hand. The air in her lungs seems to get stuck and her breathing grows

irregular, her eyes are wide open and sucking him into a blue abyss, a bottomless azure ocean.


	3. Chapter 3

The loud thump of the motel room door slamming shut makes both of them flinch, Dean taking a

step back and hasty turning around to leave her alone again. He closes the door and grabs another

beer, while Sam watches his expression and his wet shirt. "Everything alright?"

"Jep" Dean replies, popping the p in the end and drinking another beer. "What did you bring?" He

watches Sam emptying out two bags with fast food and a big salad, rolling his eyes at his rabbit

food and going for the cheeseburger with fries instead. His younger brother walks toward the

quiet bathroom and knocks two times. "I bought some stuff. I hope it fits." Cautiously opening the

door he hangs the bag on the door knob without so much as glancing into the bathroom, giving

her privacy which makes Dean roll his eyes again. She doesn´t seem to care much for it anyhow

but it´s a good thing. The thought that Sam would see her naked again doesn´t feel right for him.

As she doesn´t react, Sam stands there for a few seconds. "Come out when you´re ready before

Dean eats you´re burger too." He gets back and begins to eat his salad, when the door opens and

she hobbles out. A big towel hides away most of her wounds, but Sam watches her painful stance

worried for her.

"Let me help" he offers immediately and she just holds out a hand so he can grab it easier, guiding

her on the nearest bed. Dean puts his burger down and comes closer to sit on the other, watching

as Sam inspects her. Beginning at her face he applies disinfection, making her hiss but holding as

still as a statue. Her swollen brow makes her face uneven, but he can see her freckles for the first

time and he dimple in her chin. "That need stitches" he quietly says and feels her eyes follow him

as he prepares everything. Without a word she lets him fix her with five stitches above her brow

and then another couple on her arms. Slowly they progress along to her hands that he just cleans

and bandages, and then to her back. Both brothers flinch as they see it, angry red streaks across

her back, like she had been whipped. There are no scares yet but there will be and Dean says so.

"It don´t matter how good my brother is with a needle, this won´t be pretty." Maybe it is some

kind of excusing them, maybe it's his way to prepare her for a permanent reminder. If she would

remember anything, that is. Her body would show it anyway.

It takes the tallest Winchester a whole hour just to stitch her back, while she lies on her belly and

Dean holds her hand after she reached for it. A few times he thinks he can see a tear in her eye, all

the while she stays as still as a statue only squeezing his fingers lightly for a couple of seconds

when Sam has to go deep. Its creeping him out that she doesn´t seem to feel pain, not flinching

herself when Sam and he can´t seem to stop. Wrapped in two rolls of bandages and a couple more

patches for the smaller wounds Sam continues with her legs that luckily don´t need a lot of

stitches. The scratches are mostly just from thorns and when she fell on her knees in the dark

forest. Her feet on the other hand seem nearly as bad as her back, with pebbles and small pieces of

glass still in the soles of her pale feet. "Nothing is broken" Sam tries to cheer everybody up, the

silence between them noticeable depressed, before taking the tweezers and digging into her flesh.

After another twenty minutes her feet are cleaned and bandaged and she wears black sweatpants

and a black tshirt. If she minds wearing men's clothing she doesn´t say. Instead she gets up,

wimping through the pain and hugs an astonished Sam. The hug lasts a little longer than he feels

comfortable with, careful not to hurt her back any more than he already had to patching her up.

"Thank you" she whispers and gives him a small smile, before turning to Dean. He hugs her back,

feeling her need for contact and maybe even consolation. "Don´t thank me. Didn´t do much." The

hug ends and she just shakes her head. "You both did. You saved my life. And now I'm hungry."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The TV quietly plays in the dark motel room, Dean sitting on the floor in front of it, both Sam and

the nameless woman fast asleep. Beside him a bottle of whisky keeps him company while he

searches through Missing Persons Files. Guessing her age wasn´t easy but the three of them

decided that she would be most likely around the same age as Sam. Her long, blond hair wasn´t

colored, which was good to narrow it down but other than that she didn´t have any distinguishing

features. No tattoos or scars that would show up on a File. And so he just had to click through

countless of blond faces, getting more and more annoyed by how many woman were missing out

there. Even if he and Sam wouldn´t do anything else then rescuing blonde women they would

have enough to do for a couple of life times What the actual fuck was wrong with people!? . It

was depressing and he needed another sip of whisky to continue.

A moan behind him freezes his movement, unsure if he made a sound maybe and woke someone

up. His head snaps back as she begins to murmur, a soft longing sound too quiet to understand.

Her bandages hands try to bring the cover closer around her, curling up in a fetal position, while

her hair covers up most of her face. "Yes" she whimpers, the pain in her voice not fitting the

positive word itself. "Just do it already" she says louder this time and her body goes rigid. Dean

gets up smoothly and watches her turn to the other side, a soft smile on her lips that seems way too

relaxed. "I know" she lovingly whispers before a frown shows on her forehead and she begins

screaming and trashing. Within seconds his body is close to her, his mind still trying to figure out

what is happening. She screams and repeatedly scratches her own face. Afraid she would hurt

herself seriously Dean tries to grab her arms, but she kicks him, still sleeping and screaming.

Without seeing him waking up, Sam is standing near him after another kick and together they

manage to at least hold her down a little bit till she stops hurting herself, never fully waking up.

Her calmer body jerks and she begins crying, pained wails that tells the brothers that she is reexperiencing

whatever hurt her. Without hesitation Dean sits beside her. "Hush … it´s okay …

you´re safe … sshhh" he whispers, his warm hand massaging her neck as it is the only place he

can reach easily. It takes minutes but she does relax eventually, nestling against Deans still clad

leg. "Dean?" Her eyes blink against the blue fabric of his jeans fighting to regain her senses

against the nightmare, but she doesn´t shy away even as she awakes and sees them both watching

her. Very slowly she turns around and lies on her back, hissing at the pain, watching the ceiling.

"Don´t ask. I don´t remember."

Sam sits down with a huff, casting a questioning glance at his brother, who just shakes his head.

He didn´t found a Missing Persons File for her. No one is searching for her. At least not officially.

But they both know that that doesn´t mean much, too many freaks out there. She grabs Dean's

hand, nestling her face against it, after positioning it against her cheek. "I´m sorry I woke you

both."

They can tell she is really sorry. More sorry for them than worried for herself. "It´s nothing,

princess." Dean just shrugs it off and tries to find a more comfortable position without making the

matrass move too much and hurting her back. "You want another pill?" Sam gets up, reaching the

orange bottle with pain killers, pouring another two for her. "So what do you do if you´re not

rescuing princesses in a shiny black car?" she ask, trying to shoo the silence away that is filled

with questions that no one has answers for. In the dim light from the TV she can see them both

exchange another mute conversation, with Dean shrugging in the end. He doesn´t care if she

knows the truth and so Sam tries to explain. "We hunt the things that go bump in the night."

This single sentence is way too humble to fully explain what they really do and she just waits. It is

Dean that clarifies it a little. "Those stories about monsters? They are real. You name it, we killed

it." She can hear a hint of pride in it and a deep need to do what is right. "So you kill the bad

guys? And rescue the good ones?" They both nod. "And monsters are real?" She leans forward,

ending the physical contact with Dean and leans gently against the headboard of the rosy colored

bedframe. "Vampires?" They nod again. "Do they glitter in the sun?" she asks with a smirk and

both their heads snap in her direction. "What!?"

This time it is Sam who begins to speak. "You know about Twilight?" She thinks for a second

and nods. "But you don´t know your name?" Now she shakes her head and frowns. "Did you

liked it?" Dean interrupts the friendly interrogation and smirks again. "We should call you Bella,

princess." She looks at him and in the light of the TV he can see the first genuine smile on her face

since they found her, making the dimple on her chin appear and her eyes sparkle. "I think I did

not. And please don´t. It sounds cheesy" she laments and all three of them chuckle. She then

points to the laptop.

"Maybe we can find a better name for me?" she looks at Sam and he nods, willingly getting up to

pick up the laptop. "You look, I sleep."

Dean waits till she lies down again and sits beside her above the covers and the laptop on his legs.

"Any preferences?" Looking down on her he is astonished that she didn´t question them at all,

calling them crazy and trying to get them committed into an asylum. Wouldn´t be the first time.

The blonde next to him is relaxed and calm, trusting them from the first second and accepting their

help. Maybe that was the problem, maybe she was too trusting and ended up with the wrong

crowd? "Something short?" Again she nestles herself against him, yawning a few times before

putting her face against the solid warmth of his body again and closing her eyes.

"Anna?" Her head slightly shakes. "Cindy?" Another headshake, stronger this time. Dean smirks

and keeps listening names that he think would fit, waiting for her reaction. But it takes some time

and he gets tired, his body slowly but surely sliding further down on the bed till they are cuddled

together on the bed.

Her head on his chest while listening to his steady heartbeat.

His eyelids getting heavy while listening to her steady breathing.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Dean awakes he lies on his belly, his head cuddled in the pillow and he is under the rosy

blanket. Irritated he blinks a couple of times before noticing that she is gone. His eyes search the

other bed but it is empty too and with a huff he blinks against the bright daylight. The sun is

already shining and he can smell coffee, but it is awfully silent. Another glance down shows him

that he is still fully clad and he wipes the drool of his cheek. "Sam?" Nothing. "Sammy!?" he

shouts, searching the room. "Yeah?" The voice of his brother is muffled and coming from the

bathroom, so Dean slouches back into the way too comfy pillow. He can hear a female voice

laugh in the bathroom and bolts upright with a frown and big eyes. Could it be that…? Sam comes

back into the room, still in a shirt and his boxer briefs, and walks over to the kitchenette to fill up

his water bottle. His perplex older brother says nothing, just watches as she comes out of the

bathroom too, still brushing her teeth and walking a little bit better already. He clearly feels like he

had missed something, not exactly knowing what, just something between her and his brother.

"Good morning" she says and holds out her hand "I´m Sara" she introduces herself. Still trying to

figure out what happened he just shakes her hand. Then she winks at him "It means princess"

before hobbling back to the bathroom and finishing up getting ready.

Deans head snaps toward Sam who look incredibly innocent and puts on socks, his jeans and his

shoes. Feeling watched he looks at Dean, raising his eyebrows and asking him whats up without

having to speak. But he just rolls his eyes and helps himself to a coffee and a bagel. Munching

away he watches the other two interact, them sitting at the table, having a map in front of them.

Their heads nearly touch as they try to get a closer look and sip their coffees, while he leans

against the kitchenette. He feels excluded. And then he feels stupid for feeling excluded. "This is

where we found you. And now we´re here." Sam points out the "Maxima" on the map. "You said

you walked a day?" Sara nods. "Yes, a full day. From Sunup till Sunup." Her voice is even now,

she seems way better than last night.

Dean eyes up her long, slightly curly hair. It has the color of wheat, slightly darker in her neck and

it flows around her shoulders nearly forming a halo around her. She must have brushed it he

thinks grumpily, missing out on something he still can´t figure out. Maybe Sam did. And then they

braided each other's hair. He snorts, drinking his coffee and ignoring them both, grabbing

another bagel.

"Most people walk at 2.5 to 3 miles per hour, but you were hurt and in a forest, not on a paved

road. So I guess it was not more than 1.5 miles, which means we have a radius between 24 to 36

miles." Sam gets a pen, marking something on the map. "Can you remember which way you

went?" Sara thinks about that for a while and shrugs. "No, not really. I followed the sun when it

was afternoon. In the night I just tried to not freeze to death, so I can´t say if I stayed straight."

Sam nods and makes a big circle on the map, closing in on the spot where she maybe had woken

up with a smaller circle. Of course he immediately starts to look for something unusual on the map

just about anything out of the ordinary.

"You said you puked." Dean interrupts them, sitting down with a frown. Saras head turns in his

direction, irritated by his grumpy mood and clipped voice. Even his tousled, short hair wouldn´t

make up for that. "Yes?" It's more of a question as an answer. "So maybe someone poisoned you.

Or you ate some wild berries while on a camping trip." Dean takes another sip of his coffee,

taking in her blue eyes that seem to spark and suck him in. They both just keep looking at each

other and he feels himself sigh, relaxing into the situation again, his mood lighting up.

Once again Sara thinks about that and then nods, leaning backwards and rolling her shoulders.

"Could be. Not that I would know why someone would do that but yeah… I guess everything is

possible. Do you think a monster did this to me?" She asks them both, watching their reactions

and sipping on her own coffee. "Could be" Sam answers, using her own words. "And you don´t

remember anything?" As so often she shakes her head again. Deep in thoughts none of them says

anything for a while, eating their breakfast and studying the map.


	4. Chapter 4

The midday sun was not strong enough to fight through the dark grey clouds hanging in the sky

and deepening the shadows in the unlit motel room. Another generic room in just another motel

along the way through the hinterlands.

There were two occupied beds. Dean was lying above the blanket as usual, with a whiskey beside

him and a half eaten burger on the night stand. In the other bed a still not healed Sara tries to find a

halfway comfortable position. „It fucking itches!" She laments and has to restrain herself to not

scratch the puckering wounds. „Stop Bitching. That's a good sign. Means its healing." Dean looks

at her and watches the struggle with the hint of a smirk. The TV was on, Dean having the power

over the remote and choosing one old western after another. They were both cuddled into the

pillows and relaxing - or at least trying to.

„Come here" he invitingly pads the bed beside him and Sara gets up with a groan.

Her body healed faster than the three of them had anticipated but not enough for her to feel

comfortable enough to take long trips. It was the fourth day after they found her and the three of

them were on the way to leave Colorado. Sam and Dean had just fought an ancient mayan sport

star whose organs evoked lust for human hearts. The morning after leaving Boulder, Sara

stumbled in their lives and hadn't left yet and both guys didn't seem to want her too. She was in a

funny place, no memories had come back yet and she felt like a leaf in the wind, being tossed

around. It was inevitable that someday she´d hit the ground and it would hurt. But today wasn't

the day and so she just tried to concentrate on her regeneration.

Luckily her feet were as good as new and she could walk nearly without hobbling and (much)

cursing. She was beside him in one smooth motion, grabbing his glass of whiskey and sipping two

times before he could take it away from her. „Uh uh... not with all the medication Sam pumps into

you." They both sigh and she leans back, slightly turning towards him. Her long, slim fingers

twitch, the dark red marks on her scuffed knuckles slowly recovering. It takes a few moments but

finally she is lying snug beside him, their shoulders slightly touching.

„Dean?" she asks after drinking in his profile. The stubble on his cheeks makes him look older,

restless and his strong jaw is set tight. He has dark rings under his eyes since he didn't sleep much,

but she was fascinated by him anyway. His eyes seemed like deep and dark pools to her, dark

emerald with amber freckles in it that matched his skin so perfectly. The longer she stared at him

the harder it became to decide which kind of green his eyes really were. It kinda changes with his

moods and when he was aggravated it was more of a dreary grassy green. When he felt relaxed

his eyes seemed to be more of a caramel with spots of moss in it.

She can feel he is bugged about something and she can only guess it´s about Sam. Sam who

received emails from universities, answering his questions about admission. It made the brothers

argue, the day before, but she hadn't said anything about it. It wasn't for her. But it ended in Sam

going to the police station alone and leaving them in the motel where they just had to dawdle their

time away while trying to figure out who the Werewolf in town was. Sara needed the rest and was

glad to not be jolted around in the backseat of the impala, feeling every bump in the road as a

stabbing pain in her recovering body.

A few people had died, hearts missing, which meant Werewolf. Sam had taken on the role of a

teacher, not only explaining a lot about Werewolf lore but although answering all her questions.

As long as her pain wasn´t too bad she was reading everything she could about it in the few books

they had with them.

„Why did you help me?" her voice is low, but interested and she looks at him with her big curious

eyes that he can´t get enough of. „It was the right thing to do" he explains without thinking long

about it.

„No it wasn't" comes her reply after a few seconds. That has Dean looking at her with a frown,

one eye brow raised questioningly, his body even more tense than before. In the last days she

picked up on that expression and calmly places a hand on his chest. „It was good and kind and I

´m thankful. But it wasn't the right thing. The right thing would have been to either call an

ambulance or drive me to a hospital. Inform the police. Have them take care of me and find out

why I was in that damn forest in the first place. You could have dropped me off in Boulder, there

is a center from the Arapaho national forest in town. I looked it up."

He gets why she is asking and why the label `right` isn't working for her. It has him thinking and

after a gulp of the amber liquid he shrugs. "Driving back to Boulder would have been a half days

drive in the wrong direction." His nonchalant answer doesn't fool her.

„Do you know that you are the first human I have seen?" Sara tries a different approach as he isn't

saying anything else, just holding her hands against his chest so she wouldn't fiddle with her last

stitches. His thumbs are slowly caressing her fingers and she can feel his quickening heartbeat.

„Whatever happened before I lost my memory ... After walking for over a day I stumbled on that

parking space and saw you, the first person after all that pain. I was sooo hungry."

That finally makes the corner of his mouth switch and he looks at her. „You´re always hungry."

His jest makes her smile too and she just nods, there is no use in denying it. Her body wants to fill

up and she had on more than one occasion eaten double as much as the boys.

„It's just that … I know the feeling. You know, running around in a forest trying to find a way

back. Somewhere around Maine I stumbled upon those campers, I guess I scared them shitless."

He smirks and Sara's blue eyes cling to his plush lips as he remembers the first night after

purgatory.

„This dude was … well … they were just kids and directed me to the road. I pulled a gun on

them. Was too focused on getting back." He explains not much but paints a gruesome picture with

those few words. And he doesn't tell her about Purgatory and Castiel or Benny. Or Sam and

Amelia. It hurts too much.

"What were you doing in Maine?" The movie is forgotten as he shifts his body towards her,

pulling the thin blanket over her, snuggling her closer. "Sammy and I … we didn´t hunt together

for a while … I stranded there." He shrugs as if it isn´t a big thing but she can sense it is. They

fight more often than not about it. "Was Sam supposed to come and get you?" Sara bites her lower

lip, not sure if she should have really asked that, he seems so closed off whenever they talked

about Sam. "Yes. No. I don´t know." Dean leans back again, avoiding her glance by looking at

the ceiling. One hand behind his head he still holds her fingers with his other hand, still comforting

her with his light touch.

"This will sound crazy but it wasn´t the first time we got separated. By death. But we always keep

grinding you know, always fighting for each other." Dean is deep in thoughts, his voice not more

than a whispered rumble. "We said we wouldn´t look for each other. But we always did."

Sara just nods, nuzzling closer to him. "And this time he didn´t." She concluded and takes his

silence as confirmation. "Sucks" she says after a few more minutes of silence between them.

"Nobody is coming for me either. I don´t even know if someone is even missing me." She thinks

about that for a while and she hates the gloomy feeling that is tightening her chest. "But you are

not alone anymore" he says and puts one arm around her shoulders. Her head fits perfectly in the

crook near his collarbone, even though he is just a few fingers taller than her, lying beside him she

can nestle her body right into his.

"Yeah. By hook or by crook you are stuck with me." He smirks at that and nods. "Like a stray

that follows you around after you give him some scraps. I knew I shouldn´t have bought you that

burger!" He makes light of the situation and she laughs. It is the first laughter he hears from her

and even if it is on her expense she doesn´t mind. Her blissful laughter shakes her upper body and

he feels her long hair brush against his neck, tickling him a little. Within seconds he feels more at

ease than … ever … since Purgatory and in the heat of the moment he presses a kiss against her

forehead.

Her pearly whites are showing in her big grin and she sighs confidently. "Don´t make me laugh. It

hurts" she laments again, but her smile proves her words wrong, he can see she is enjoying herself

and that makes him confident, too.

Dean reaches for his whisky, taking a big gulp and watching her lying next to him. "What?" she

asks with another smile, her fingers pushing her hair behind her ear so she can see him better.

"You are going to stay, right?" He asks with a hint of wariness that makes her straighten up. Her

blue eyes meet his green ones and she thinks about that. "Of course" she says without hesitation.

"You are stuck with me." She feels she has to clarify, to make him believe her, to make him rely

on that. "I don´t know if I´m going to be a big help, but I'm in. Killing the bad and rescuing the

good."

Silence settles between them and she feels his eyes on her, it feels like being rayed, as if he wants

to cast a glance into her soul. Then he nods. "Saving people. Hunting things. The family business"

he explains and then it is her turn to nod. "Sounds much more badass. I like it." Her voice gets

relaxed again and she grabs his shirt, dragging him on the matrass again so she can nestle herself

against him.

"Why?" His question interrupts the comfortable silence in the room. "Going for the deep

questions, are we?" She retorts fast and then takes a few minutes to think about it. Something she

is doing a lot, he noticed, Sara does think about something till she comes to a conclusion. And

then she vocalizes her opinion and he trusts her to stand by it.

"Because you cared about me, one human being to another human being. Sam and you have

shown me what compassion is about. Fuck, you´re trying to rescue the whole damn world. How

can I walk away from that and still feel … human?"

"I just hope that I´m able to help, you know? It´s pretty fucked up. Sometimes I have that feeling

of … knowing stuff. I´m pretty sure I can drive a car. But when I try to remember if I had driving

lessons I draw a blank. I don´t even know if I ever went to school or not, if I have siblings or

parents or a home. Talk about a clean slate, huh?" She sighs, openly showing how severe her

amnesia is and how insecure she feels about that.

"We take it one day at a time, princess" Dean says, pressing another light kiss on her forehead.

His dark blue button up crinkles as she nuzzles deeper into his warm body trying to hide a yawn.

Feeling his emerald eyes on herself she just closes her eyes and letting much needed sleep wash

over her.


	5. Chapter 5

It was hard to see them like that, running around after this Kevin guy. And it was even harder to

process that the AP student was a prophet of the lord. A fucking prophet! That he was not only

chased by the hunters but the king of hell! Translating the word of god was important and they

were running out of time. But Kevin eluded them once again, so both brothers fought while Sara

just sat on the bed in the colorful room and observes.

"Well that is twice that he´s burned us. Shame on you" Dean accuses his long haired brother while

fiddling with the keys to the room. Of course Sam has to fight back, explaining that he was

already expecting a sham. They argue and Sara's head snaps back and worth as if watching a

tennis game. "Whatever" Sam retorts with decreasing force "Either way it's another room billed to

one of Kevin's false credit IDs."

Dean kneels down to the small fridge and grabs two beers and water, giving her the nonalcoholic

drink with a smirk. She just shakes her head and takes his beer instead. "Just one" she mumbles as

his smirks makes way for a worried frown and a slight headshake. Surely he would have

complained about her drinking but the conversation between the brothers started to heat up again.

"And the motel ran his number today!"

"So he actually checked in?" Sara asks and Sam nods "Yes."

She huffs and locks around. There is nothing to be found that would prove the kid had really been

here. Her blue eyes follow Dean as he says something about a criminal prodigy Rainman under

his breath, watching him kneel a couple of feet away from her. Bummer she thinks, as he still has

his jacket on so she can´t see his fabulous backside. With a frivolous smirk she interrupts the

Winchesters.

"I´ll need one, too." Sara tries to guide the attention back from the prophet and prevent the

oncoming fight between the brothers. As both watch her she just shrugs. "I want my own fake

ID."

But it doesn´t help and Sam finally speaks a truth that Sara just felt them beat around for days. "I

don' t know Dean. I mean you did try to kill his mother."

Deans verdant green eyes search her blue ones with an expression that is awfully close to an

apology. He searches her face for any sign that she is appalled and once again impressed by her

stoic nature. She just learned he tried to kill someone but says nothing. It was shortly before she

crawled into their lives and they hadn´t had much time to get to know each other. Not on that level

anyhow. Maybe, well, most definitely, she would just keep everything balled up deep down and

then explode after hearing too much. She had to reach a breaking point someday, right!?

"I was trying to kill Crowley! Okay? Who happened to be wearing Kevins mother at the time.

There a difference!" Deans switches his attention back to Sam and they get louder with each

There a difference!" Deans switches his attention back to Sam and they get louder with each

other's reply till Deans phone rings and he goes outside. With a huff Sam forces his hand through

his hair and sips his beer. Sara sips hers in silence, not sure what to say or if she should say

anything at all. She hasn't been in a situation like this, not that she can remember anyway. Sam

gets up, refreshing himself in the bathroom, she can hear him splashing water in his face. "How

are you feeling?" he asks coming back, drying his hands and watching Dean still on the phone

outside.

"Stiff. But all in all I'm feeling much better." She stands up, showing him her hands where the

bruises on the knuckles finally turned a sickly yellow. Yellow is good, yellow means it will be

gone soon. "We should change the bandages. Maybe we can take out a few stitches, too." Sam

grabs the first aid kit and Sara gets on the bed, shedding her shirt. Except the two biggest wounds

on her shoulderblades the smaller ones are healed up at least and Sam warns her before taking out

49 stitches, most on her back but on her arms and legs as well. It is a tedious work and sometimes

the synthetic thread has adhered to her skin because they waited too long. "I´m sorry this hurts"

Sam apologizes in his characteristic heartfelt way that makes her smile.

"Who teached you to do sutures?" She asks to not only pass the time but to learn more about Sam.

"Uhm, in this kind of life you just pick it up after a while, you know. But Wikipedia helps, too.

Different parts of the body heal at different speeds. Common time to remove stitches can vary:

facial wounds 3–5 days; scalp wound 7–10 days; limbs 10–14 days; joints 14 days; trunk of the

body 7–10 days." He hisses as he cuts the last thread, deep on her left calf and gets up to stretch

his tensed shoulders. "Done" he says and she gets dressed again.

It is this exact moment Dean comes in again and sees the scars on her back and he closes his eyes

for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath. After that whole Kevin-tablet-debacle this would be

the next best thing on his to do list. Finding out what happened to her, that is. Not her. But the

thought about putting the blonde on his to do list isn´t unwelcomed, either.

Before his thoughts can linger, he goes back to the previous call and starts packing. "And what

exactly does that mean, you got to go?" Sam doesn´t understand and Sara just shrugs her

shoulders as he casts her an incredulous stare. She doesn´t understand either and Dean is not

willing to stop long enough to explain it to them. "Which words are giving you trouble?" Dean

sasses and Sara raises her brows irritated. "I thought we were on a case?" Dumbfounded she tries

to calm them both, but they ignore her and just continue to quibble.

"Yes, remember Dean? The Winchester holy grail shut the gates of hell forever case?" Sam sasses

right back. His older brother is not impressed and starts raiding the mini bar while explaining the

standstill in the hunt for the prophet.

"Mind if I take the toblerone?" Dean looks directly at her and she shakes her head. "You´re

staying here. Heal up." With a last glance in her direction he takes his duffel back and heads

outside, Sam following him and Sara slightly limping towards the door frame watching them.

They talk and fight, but in the end Dean drives off in his baby and leaves Sam and Sara

wondering what the heck is going on.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It had been two days and she was going crazy. For a hundreds time she read the small business

card near the telephone. Paradise Motel, Enid, Oregon. It had Sam's number written sloppily

down on the back.

The motel room seemed smaller with each passing hour, the silence depressing her. Yeah, sure,

she could watch some TV, heal up, order a pizza. Or Fifteen. Sam left his creditcard with her, for

emergencies as he had put it but she figured out by now that it wasn´t even his. It made her

wonder what else they did while hunting. Credit Card fraud seemed one of the lesser evils,

somehow, they had to pay for gas eventually, right? Her moral compass was, about two weeks

after finding the Winchesters, still blank. She had no recollection how she would have considered

a situation like this before her amnesia. Maybe she should feel some kind of remorse? Maybe she

should leave them? Report them to the authorities? Forging FBI batches as Agents Rose and

Hudson!? She had googled the names and then spend an hour listening to Guns'n'Roses on

youtube. It made her smile to think about that as it was followed by a long conversation about

rock music with Dean. They had sat in the impala, listening to his tapes while drinking coffee. But

that had been before Oregon and before he had stomped off.

Alone she felt restless, her still healing body itching to be out and about. If she had to look at the

ugly tapestry one more minute she felt like burning the place down. It felt to bright and happy in

here without them, the yellow and green mixture of furniture making her question who decorated

this shithole. Snuggling alone in a two bed motel room just didn´t cut it anymore.

And so Sara got up around midday and packed the few belonging she had been given by the

Winchesters. Two sweatpants, three shirts and a sweater. Socks. That was it. Not underwear, no

shoes, not even a bra. She felt like a hobo. Like a reserve player waiting on the bench for some

coach to deem her capable enough. The Winchesters were gone, Dean had to take `personal day`

whatever that meant. And Sam, angry at his older brother, went to see some girl called Amelia. He

didn't really explain much, just that he had to see her and she could come with him. In the days

before he left her too he was a brooding mess.

But Sara wasn't going to do that, tagging along to some kind of romantic getaway, being the third

wheel and all. She felt excluded. Dean had said they´d take one day at a time, but he was gone

now. He left them without explaining why. Was she just something you could just tuck away till it

would be needed again? Not that she really had capabilities useful to the brothers except keeping

them company and munching their food. But it hurt nonetheless, especially after those long talks

with Dean. They talked often and she began to miss him, more than she cared to admit to herself.

The brisk air outside went straight through her sweater, making her shiver. She began to hate the

cold and the goosebumps on her skin. The remote motel was not exactly close to the highway but

she just shouldered her roll and put a spring in her step. Her clothing was curled up into a ball,

secured with two straps, hanging from her side as she finally found the road. Not sure if she

wanted to go left or right she watched the sun for a few minutes and decided to take the left on a

whim. It didn't really matter anyway.

Her feet felt soon cold in the socks but her body relaxed as she was not longer confined, taking

deep breaths and smiling at herself. The air around her smelled of promise with a hint of

pinewood. A soft rumble behind her became louder after a while and a motorcycle drove by.

Long, black hair was swaying in the wind and a corpulent woman let the bike roll slowly to a

stop. Sara had been walking for about half an hour and the motorcycle was the first vehicle to

cross her path.

She stopped beside it, both women looking each other up "You need help?" the black haired

asked worried. And Sara thought about that, did she? "Not sure. I could use a ride though." Sara

hugged herself, trying to keep the cold away. "Looks like you need more than that, girl. I´m

Florence." She smiled, her deep red lipstick making her smile even wider and she clapped on the

leather seat behind her. She had blue eyes, too, but hers were darker. And kind. So kind that Sara

didn't think long and just got behind her, accepting a helmet and holding tight as Florence put her

hands on her fleshy belly. "I´m Sara. And thanks." She said as Florence pushed the bike forwards

and drove off.

The feeling of the wind in her hair was fantastic and she felt comfortable with the stranger, even

though she didn't know where they were driving. An hour later they parked in front of a tiny

shopping street in a small town somewhere along the US-20 and she gave the helmet back.

Florence takes it before getting off herself, stretching her body and patting her back. "Ah, I can´t

feel my ass anymore" She laughs at her own joke, a rich and vibrant voice making Sara smile.

"What do you say we get you some shoes and a jacket and then find a place to eat?"

Sara takes a step back. "Why are you doing that?" she asks curious, as Florence is another

stranger willing to help her out. It´s just unrealistic that after Sam and Dean just another stranger

pops up and takes care of her like that. "Not that I don´t appreciate you bringing me here, don´t

get me wrong."

"Girl, you don´t know me. I don´t know you. But I can see you´re in trouble. Boyfriend hit you?

That shiner is not from falling down the stairs." Florence looks at her and sighs deeply. "When I

was in your situation nobody cared. I had to drag my own ass back on track and if you want some

company, I really could use it. I´ve been on the road for weeks without a decent girls day. We

should be there for each other right?"

Her dark blue eyes are honest and so Sara nods, it was a simple truth and Florence was absolutely

right. It seemed rarely happening in real life though. "You got money?" She asks as they pass a

unpretentious flower shop. This deep in the neck of the woods there aren´t any high class shops,

just local mom and pop business, a small restaurant and a book store. Maybe ten shops on each

side of the street give it a homey feeling. "No." Sara answers, instantly drawn towards an army

store. "But I have his credit card." She smiles a big happy smile and Florence laughs while giving

her a high five. "Perfect!"

Shopping with the Blackhaired is more fun than she had in a long, long time and they are giggling

like small school girls.

After an hour Sara not only has a new backpack, she owns real clothes, too. Most of them bought

in the army store, so they are pragmatic and durable, Sara already anticipating she would have to

rely on those qualities. Sam and Dean choose those clothing for a reason and so would she.

It took some time to find a bra that fit without having Florence see any of her scars, but in the end

all worked out and the tall blonde is finally outfitted decently. They wandered around for a bit and

found a bar that serves home brewed beer and fast food as well which is good enough for them

both. Her new working boots squeak on the wooden floor, black and shiny the new leather is still

stiff around her ankles. But the comfy jeans and a Henley under a zip hoodie and a green army

parker fit her perfectly. The Army shop had offered enough choices in clothing - the colors on the

other hand were exactly as expected, dark blue or green, black and maybe a camouflage pattern.

Sara wasn´t sure when she could go shopping again, since the Winchesters didn't seem to own

much clothing anyway. She hadn´t spent much money and hoped Sam wouldn´t be angry. But

she needed clothes, right? Something so she could finally walk around and not being trapped

inside the motel, relying on the brothers to even buy her food. So she decided to invite Florence to

a meal of 'fried everything with a side dish of more fried everything' and pay with the fake credit

card. It was risky, yes, but with a little smirk and batting of her eyes she could convince them it

was her brother's card.

Florence, who wanted to be called Flo, was a big goofball and they joked the whole day. It was so

much fun that they had to wipe away tears after another laughing fit.

The waitress in the bar just brought another round of beers as one of the patrons bought them

tequila. With a wink they accepted and swallowed it hasty.

"Fits with fries and burgers" Flo laughed. "Fits with the country music, too" Sara answered

grinning. She actually really laughed a lot and it made Sara forget how bored she had felt in the

morning. It wasn't even that funny most of the times, the laughter was feeding itself. Whenever

one of them had found a little control and stopped - the other began to giggle and within seconds

both were screaming with laughter again. The food stopped it, for a while at least, as they

munched happily.

"So what makes a nice girl like yourself driving around picking up other nice girls?" She asked in

all earnest and Flo could sense that, making her answers honest. "I just drive around. I´m a vet

myself, you know." She taps against her leg which is prosthesis.

"Lost it three years ago in an urban warfare mission in Iraq and decided it was time to let all that

go. So I bought myself a Harley and take what little pension I have to see the country that had cost

me a leg and way too many nightmares." Her voice isn´t amused anymore when she finishes her

little story and she watches the traffic outside for a while. Her black hair shines in the dim light in

the bar as dusk sets in and makes Sara aware how young she actually is. With her outgoing

character and she constant jokes it is easy to assume she is happy, but she has a secret, a story, just

like everybody else. "And you? Running around half naked?"

"I wasn´t half naked!" Sara neglects before thinking about an answer that is a more honest.

"Around two weeks ago I was … And then … It´s complicated." She sighs, not sure what to tell

her. "I was hiking and lost my way, I lost my stuff and then my friends came and picked me up.

But they had to leave, for work. I felt alone. Lonely. So I just … went."

Flo is suspicious, Sara can see the raised eyebrow and questioning look in her eyes. "You just

went? Left?" The blonde just nods and sips her beer. "I´ll go back." She explains and her slightly

slanted eyes grow fond. "But I feel lucky to have met you. This was the best day in … forever."

They clink their beer bottles together and Sara pays their tap, buying another round of tequila

before they leave. The sun is still up but already turning darker and Sara is happily zipping up her

army parker, feeling the warmth clinging to her. "You wanna have some fun?" Flo asks wiggling

her eyebrows and throwing an arm around Sara's back. The pain from the deep cuts flares up

again, the stitches still healing and itching, the pressure making it so much worse that Sara hissed

and flinched. "Sorry" Flo says immediately and takes a step back. Squinting she looks at her

companion. "Just tell me you are okay!"

"I am. I´m healing. Everything is fine." Sara assures her with a certainty in her voice that doesn´t

allow any doubt. "What kind of fun you had in mind?"

The preparations take another half hour and then the women are standing across a field, a few

empty beer cans on a fence not far away. They drank them and Sara sways slightly, the alcohol in

her blood strongly disagreeing with her pain killers. It feels great. Light as a feather and not caring

about her problems she just waits with a blissful grin till Flo has the cans set up. "Take this" she

says, reaching into a pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a gun, throwing it without care

into Sara's arm.

"Uhhm" is her first reaction, trying to get rid of it. But then she looks at it and a cold shiver rans

down her spine. "A M9 Beretta, with the M9A1 update so you can attach lights or lasers to it. It

has a beveled magazine for easier reloading and can handle sand way better than the M9 standard

issue. Semiautomatic, 9 x 19mm parabellum, in service since 1985. Weight 33,6oz and 41,0oz

when loaded. 8.5 inches long with a 4.9 inch barrel length. The effective firing rage is 50m."

Flo watches her surprised, for the first time this day completely speechless. Sara is, too.

"How…?" Is the black haired woman beginning to ask but Sara interrupts her. "I don´t know. I

have never held a gun before. How can I know that?" Panicked she gives the firearm back and

dusts her hands on her parker as if the weapon was sticky. Which it wasn´t, she could see the

pristine condition Flo kept her weapon. "This is so fucked up" Sara whispers insecure. They both

look at the dark metal in Flo´s hand and then Sara takes a deep breath, grabbing it in one swift

motion while switching the safety off and firing six shots in a short succession. The beer cans fall

on the ground, a vague clicking noise can be heard and the shells fall on the gravel. All six cans

have a single shot right in the middle, perfectly aimed and executed, which makes Flo grin.

"I don´t know. But this is really good. You´re talented. You´re trained." Flo seizes her up, not able

to see a trained shooter in the thin woman she had picked up thinking she couldn´t take care of

herself. "Let's try something else." She has Sara reload the clip and picks the cans up, throwing

one after another in the air. Sara shoots with a steady hand hitting all of them. "Again" she orders

in a clipped voice, letting Sara shoot the six cans again. This time with her left hand but the result

is the same. Flo begins cheering and whooping, clearly impressed and claps her shoulder

appreciative.

"This is so fucked up" Sara says, giving the weapon back to Flo and starts to shake. Just a little

quivering in her fingers after discovering something about herself she didn´t knew couple of

minutes before. She feels overwhelmed and insecure. How did she learn to shoot like that? And

why? Was she a cop? Or a soldier like Flo? Her breathing begins to fasten, her ribcage to tight for

the beginning panic. But Flo just holds her hand for a while and caressing the back of her hand

with her thumb. "Don´t be scared. This is a good thing."

With the assurance of her new friend Sara lets herself be guided back to the Harley Davidson, puts

the helmet on and cuddles her long body behind the back of the female Ex-Marine on the leather

seat. She doesn´t think about it, but Flo has to drive a little over an hour back just to bring her to

the motel. This was clearly not the way she wanted to drive, but she offered and Sara just hopes

she isn´t angry about it. When they finally arrive, Sara pointing out the last part of the way, she

just stops a couple of meters away from the "Paradise Motel".

"You know those stories about fairy godmothers?" Sara asks quietly, still in thought but with a

pleased smile on her pink lips. She grins as Flo shakes her head, not sure what the blonde meant

by that. "Well, they show up from nowhere, grand you three wishes and make everything better. I

think you´re one." She hugs Flo, her warm body feeling comfortable against her, the big arms and

stout physique engulfing her with a blithe calmness. "And what did you wish for?" She asks after

the hugs ends.

"I don´t know if I really wished for it. But today I made a friend, had my first tequila and the

chance to learn something about myself. Exactly what I needed."

Flo makes a delighted `aaaaw` sound and fishes for a pen in her backpack, writing her number on

a piece of paper. Then she searches again and hands over a pack of bullets, her M9 and the paper.

"Keep it" she says, leaning forward and giving her a small peck on her cheek. "And if some

asshole hurts you again, you shoot them in the ball sack, you hear me?" With another grin Sara

nods and gulps audibly. "Yes mam. Save travels."

She stands there for a while, watching Flo drive of into the dark till the red taillight is not much

more than a faint dot in the distance. With a sigh she puts everything away and shoulders her large

backpack. What a surreal encounter. She still wasn´t fully sure that Flo wasn´t a fairy. If monsters

were real there should be friendly supernatural beings out there too, right? It couldn´t just be blood

and thunder out there! Could it?


	6. Chapter 6

When she got the keys out and fiddled with the lock she could hear the phone ringing and tried to

rush inside the motel room. The second her fingers reached the receiver the phone went silent, the

line not giving much more than a static sizzle. Her heart sped up and her backpack fell on the floor

with a loud thump. "Well fuck you too" she said to the phone and waited a little, hoping it was

one of the guys. Hoping it would ring again. But no, no such luck in her little lonely atmosphere.

Murmuring disappointed she took the phone from the table, tugging the cord till it was placed right

in the small bathroom. The vent turned on, surprisingly not rattling this time and Sara took her

time getting naked.

In that little town she had been with Flo she had not only bought necessary clothing but some

other stuff too.

Flo had said that it was as necessary as clothing and the next hour Sara spend under the shower,

shaving her legs and any other part she deemed too hairy. With a smirk she thought about the poor

soul who would have to clean up the pipes after she had shed what seemed like a winter fur. Of a

well fed wombat. She laughed at her own joke, still at ease from an astonishing day with her fairy

godmother. Her sarcastic humor had rubbed off of her and Sara embraced it. Her heart made a

slow stutter as a thought crossed her mind, it was possible she would never see her again. She

would call her, Sara decided, first thing when she got her own cell. There was still so much to buy

and after being wrapped up in towels she made a list, painted her nails in a dark red that was

almost black, plugged her eyebrows and tending to her wounds all by herself.

With a side glance to the phone she tried calling Sam. Dean hadn´t given her any number,

assuming she would be staying close to his younger brother. But Sam didn´t pick up. She could

only assume he was dickdeep in Amelia right now and not eaten by a ghoul. Or some other

monster that was real and not only a story to frighten little children.

There was still some beer left in the fridge and she took a bottle out, making herself comfortable

on the bed with on old lore book. After the third beer her eyes grew tired and she had to stifle a

yawn. She tried calling Sam again and got connected to his voicemail. "This is Sam Winchester,

please le- Dean! Give me my ph- …"

She could hear muffled wrestling in the background before the peep and had to grin. "Sam, call

me back. It´s Sara."

Her short notice would hopefully let him do exactly that, call her and let her know that everything

was alright. It was a cloying feeling to feel so dependent.

After another long and loud yawn she crawled beneath the sheets, nursing yet another beer bottle.

Dean would have been furious to see her like this, the alcohol not helping her recover. But he

wasn´t here, so she tried to ban her longing for their company and cuddled herself into a deep

sleep.

The sun was shining through the curtains, bathing the room in bright light and radiating off the

face beside her. Dean was lying in her bed, smacking his lips in his deep sleep. Sara nuzzled

closer enjoying his radiating warmth and sighing when she caught a whiff of his smell. He still

had his clothes on but they couldn´t hide the lingering scent of leather and soap and she engulfed

him in her arms with a satisfied grunt. "Morning princess." His soft rumble beside her made her

smirk, his sleepy voice making her feel even more relaxed. "Hey" she answered as her fingers

stroke on their own accord through the short clipped hair on the back of his head. She didn´t even

wondered how or when he got into the motel room or her bed for that matter. Sara was just

happy that he was and let her fingertips show him lightly massaging his neck. A purring noise

started low in his chest and he actually cuddled closer to her to press a smacking kiss on her

forehead. "I missed you" he whispers longingly and her blue eyes by this admission. He had

never been that blunt in … this … whatever this way sound of the kiss was deafening

and Sara jolted irritated. "Princess" he said in a stern voice without opening his eyes. Another

loud boom was heard and she turned around. "Get up already!"

A loud shout outside the motel room door disrupted her dream and she got up with an upset groan,

cussing and holding her pounding head. It hadn´t been the best idea to drink herself into a drunken

stupor, but it was exactly what she had needed last night. "Coming" she tried to answer with a

hoarse voice that came out nothing more than a faintly audible whisper and stumbled to the door,

nearly tripping over the blanket that was wrapped around her naked legs. "You need to leave,

princess. This room isn´t paid for any longer." The clerk in front of her informed her, clearly

aggravated that he had to leave his office and make all the way to the last room on the very end of

the motel. "Ok" she mumbled and shoved the doors, slamming it aggressively in his face.

Five minutes later she is fully clad and not even halfway awake as she packs everything. The

books are pressed tight against everything she owns, she takes the Werewolf Kates laptop as well,

as she doesn´t want to leave anything here. The straps squeak under the weight as she shoulders

the backpack, hurting her stitches on her back and hissing at the pang. With a last glance she

checks the room and brings the keys to the front desk.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Dammit Sammy!" Dean shouts over the rumbling of the impala as he drives them out of

Washington. "You did what!?"

Furious Dean slams on the steering wheel and brings the black car to a standstill, not caring for the

honking traffic behind them. Flipping his finger at a compact minivan that has to go round his car

he grabs his cell, the one that didn´t got broken while helping Benny. "Whats the number!?" he

shouts at his brother and taps his foot rapidly while Sam searches for the number from the Paradise

Motel in Oregon. "Come on, Sammy, we´re more than 6 hours away and that would be if we not

once stop for gas. How could you just leave her!?"

"I´m sorry. How about you haven´t said a word to me since Prentiss Island? Or before? And now

what, you want me to shut up and drive shotgun and act like nothing happened? It´s not that far

anyway!"

Sam, holding a paper bag with his meal they got along the road, is nearly as pissed as Dean. His

brown hair sways from side to side as he argues and Dean just sighs.

"You wanna talk about Benny? Fine. Let´s talk. On our way to pick up Sara! You left her on her

own one fucking state away!"

Dean just grabs Sams laptop and searches for the number himself and Sam is astound that there is

no foam coming out of his mouth. Smart enough to give his brother time to cool of he takes a sip

from his water and takes out his cell. Three missed calls. Unknown number. Shit!

"Yes? Hello? Is this the … uhm … Paradise Motel?" He can hear his brothers aggravated voice

and just hopes the blonde is still there. "Oh hi, yes, I rented out room number 1013 and I

wondered if … my sister … is still there…?" The suspension is killing Sam and his guilt makes

him shift nervously in his seat. He didn´t want to ditch her. But Dean needed him... So he just

stole a car and drove off, not even thinking about trying to reach her or taking her with him.

"She what!?" Dean gets louder again and then eases up within seconds. His eyes close and he

takes a deep breath, an animal like grunt in the back of his throat escapes as he grabs the steering

wheel till his knuckles turn white.

"Hi" He says next and opens up his eyes, the slightest hint of a smile tugging in the corner of his

mouth. "I thought we lost you."

"I´m just checking out, Dean. A minute later and you would have. The rent was up and I don´t

have any money, so this douche kicked me out. The credit card doesn´t work or they don´t accept

it or whatever. I might have used it yesterday. A little bit." She hurries through her apologies and

hears him chuckle. "Where are you two anyway?" He can hear devastation in her voice and the

unspoken question why nobody informed her of anything. Maybe she had been as scared as him?

Did she missed him at all?

"On hour way to Missouri. Some place called Kearney." Hiding his own worries in his voice he

sounds too brisk for his own taste.

"You´re kidding!? That is like … three days away, right?" she exhales, not sure how long it

would take to drive there. "Ok, talk me through it and I´m coming."

Dean frowns slightly in Sams direction and leans back, sipping on his coke. "Talk you through

what? You don´t have a car, Sara. Dammit, you don´t even have a license. Or a lastname!"

He can hear some rustling noises and waits till she has evidently turned away from the clerk.

"Blood and thunder! I know. I´m bloody stranded in Oregon for fucks sake! And that is exactly

why I need you to tell me how to wire a car. And then I´ll get me a map and we´ll meet up

somewhere." She takes a deep breath. "I told you I´m in. So. I´m in!"

With another frown he shields the microphone on his cell and looks at Sam who has started to eat

his salad while listening to them both bickering. It's funny to see it happen to her instead of him.

"She is pissed" Dean explains in a hushed tone and pushes a deep breath through his teeth. "You

better buy her something fancy." He grins at Sam´s irritated glance and then explains step by step

how to choose a perfect getaway car and how to shortcut it.

After that he ordered her to write down his number and where they would meet along the road to

Missouri and waited till she had it all down. Delaying the inevitable hanging up he began to ask

stupid questions. "Gotta go. The douche wants his landline back." Sara interrupts the third time

Dean is asking her how she has been and hangs up with a mumbled "Take care."

A day later Sam is sitting on a park bench, typing away on his laptop as he stretches his back and

sees Saras silhouette walking towards the roadhouse they choose to meet up. Her back is buckled

under the weight of her enormous army style backpack and he is up and taking long steps towards

her before he knows what he is doing. Without as much as a greeting he takes away her heavy

load and shoulders it himself. "Heya Sam" she says, stretching her spine and exhaling liberated. It

is the first time he really recognized how tall she is, having lying around the last weeks taking it

slow. But now she seems fine and the scratches are nearly gone. Leaning forward she hugs him

tightly and grins up to him, her nose the height of his shoulders. "Did you walk?"

"Yeah, the car ran out of gas a few miles back and it didn´t looked far on the map" she explains

and they start walking back to the impala. "At least I got to break in the new boots." With a

sheepish grin she searches for his credit card in the pocket of her tight jeans and gives it back. "I

think I might have accidently maxed it out, Mister Hudson."

"It's ok, Sara. I got you something." Sam grins as sheepishly as she had and picks a cell phone

from the glove department of the black car. "Oh" is her only reaction as he hands it to her "Is this

your way to say sorry for ditching me?"

"Kinda. I already put in our numbers. Is it working?"

Sara sits down with a sign, rolling her shoulders and lunging forward to grab a water bottle on the

small picnic table, taking a few large gulps. Her blue eyes muster Sam and his guilty look, before

she nods and bumps into him with her shoulder. "It´s fine, Sam. I´m not the bearing a grudge type

of girl, you know? At least I don´t think so." They grin at each other and Dean walks up to them,

balancing a vast amount of fast food and a big salad on a baby blue tray. "Heya Dean" she greets

him too and lets him hug her awkwardly, as he leans downwards to meet her and she just tried to

stand up to meet him.

Smiling at her his arms linger around her back, squeezing lightly to avoid hurting her, feeling the

fur her parker is lined with. "Did you go shopping?" he asks with a smirk and takes it all in. Dark

blue jeans hugs her hips in all the right places and the heavy boots make her stance confident and

she even looks taller. The right knee is ripped and he can see the pale skin of her knee. A black

Henley lets him see the beginning swell of her breasts, since she hadn´t bothered to button it up.

Around her neck a long silver necklace draws his glance to stay on her freckled cleavage. She is

just a few inches smaller than him, maybe three or four. Her still too lean figure seems to finally be

on the mend, the haggard look in her face very slowly making way to a healthy glow. All in all

the three days alone must have been good for her, she seems well rested even though she just

tackled a days drive to get here.

"You ran into any trouble?" Dean sits down, pushing the tray towards his brother without looking

at him. "Not really. The stealing part was really easy. Felt like I had done it a thousand times

already." Saras voice grows slow as she thinks about it, trying to hide the panic she had felt at the

time. It was the same with the gun, the moment she had chosen a car and went to work her fingers

just did it – like a reflex, something that was deeply buried into her memory. It was scary, to say

the least, but in front of the Winchesters she put on a brave face. "Car ran out of gas a couple of

miles ago, walked here." Dean raises his brow, making a dismissive smack with his lips and starts

digging in. "Sam will check your stitches later" he orders his younger brother who just nods.

"Aren´t we doing this whole salt and holy water thing?"

Sara casts an irritated glance between them, suspecting that something was amiss. They weren´t as

companionable as before and that already had been strained. To her, not knowing them before

Dean went to Purgatory, their interactions were clipped and brisk. Not much of a brotherlyworking-

together relationship. "You´re already drinking holy water, Sara" Sam interrupts with a

grin that shows the dimples in his cheeks and she chuckles. "Got me" she winks at him, taking the

salt shaker from the table and swallowing a small handful. "This is disgusting."

Dean produces a small water pistol from his jacket and has her putting her hand forward to squirt

some borax on her skin, nodding satisfied as her skin doesn´t react to it. The initial tests over she

stands up again.

"I need to make a call, excuse me" she says, watching them interact on a minimal basis. I´ll deal

with those knuckleheads later she thinks to herself as the eager feeling to hear Flo`s voice grows

too big to ignore. Fishing for the small paper with her number in her backpack she grabs her new

phone and walks a few meters away from the brothers and pinches the number in. Waiting she

kicks a small pebble with her boot as she can hear the voicemail picking up.

"What kind of fairy godmother are you anyway?" She begins with a grin. "There hasn´t been any

need to shoot someone in the ball sack, just so you know. I´m somewhere close to Appleton on

my way down the Interstate 84. I wanted to hear your voice but I guess you don't feel the buzzing

while sitting on that chick magnet." Her uncaged laughter can be heard by the brothers who look

up irritated. "But hey, I have my own phone now so please call me when you get this. Save

travels!"

Satisfied with her message she sits beside Sam again, stealing some of Deans fries from across the

table.

"Who was that?" His green eyes look accusingly in to her blue and her smile vanishes.

"A friend?" Irritated she answers and steals even more fries. "We leave you alone for three days

and you manage to make friends!?" Sam is caught off guard and tries to hide a smirk when Dean

looks even more dumbfounded. He can already sense it, even if his older brother doesn´t seem to,

but he knows that Dean is annoyed by this. She has found someone other than them and doesn´t

clarify which gender, which makes the shorthaired hunter even more piqued. This would be a lot

of fun to watch!

"Are we done here?" comes Dean's question harshly as the last fries are munched and the tray

cleaned.

With a nod they all get up and Sam shoulders her backpack again, throwing it in the trunk of the

impala. The typical rumble of the old veteran of the road had a homely feeling to hear,

remembering when she laid wrapped up in a blanket in the backseat, fighting sleep. Funny, three

weeks ago she had been a frightened, starved ball of mess and now she was a halfway confident

woman, tagging along the ghostbuster brothers.

"So what happened?" Her voiced is clearly heard over the Foreigner song 'Long, Long Way from

Home' that has Deans thump hitting the steering wheel in the tact. His verdant eyes watch her in

the rear mirror and she winks at him, trying to brighten up the silence in the car. The back of Sams

head turns to watch out of the window and even from the backseat it is clear that he isn´t going to

answer that particular question. "Had to help a friend kill some vampires" Dean explains through

gritted teeth as Sams grunt can be heard. "I thought you don´t have friends?"

Now it is her turn to look dumfounded. "He hasn´t. All his friends are dead." Sam chimes in,

making his older brother roll his eyes. "Vampires? Uhm, let's see. Sunlight hurts, but doesn´t kill

it. Decapitation or the Colt will do just that and if absorbed dead man's blood will paralyze it and

cause wounds that heal slowly… And I guess make it angry." She summarizes from memory and

laughs at both brothers watch her taken aback. "What!? I´ve been doing some homework when

you ditched me!"

"I didn´t ditch you" His grumbled retort shows how sorry Dean is about the whole thing and she

mouths a silent 'It´s ok' to reassure him that she isn´t angry at them. Or him.

"I told you that Sam and I haven´t hunted together for a while? Maine?" She nods and Sam

watches his brother with his infamous bitchface. How much had he told her already!?

"Well, I was with Benny. He had my back. And now he needed a favor." It isn´t the Mona Lisa of

explanations but Sara gets it nonetheless. Like she had when they cuddled in the bed talking about

why Sam didn´t went looking for him up in Maine.

"And Benny is a vampire? Are there such things as good vampires?" She asks, trying to get her

moral compass in sync with his. "No!" both brothers say immediately, Sam dumbfounded that

Dean would say something like this. "Benny is just the exception! He doesn´t drink living blood.

He deserves a chance." Dean adamantly defends his decision, ignoring Sams rolling eyes and

mumbled "Whatever".

Sara can feel this isn´t over yet.

Blackjack

Chapter Summary

A new case in Kaerney, Missouri unites the Winchesters with Garth, but the different

opinions let them drift apart and with Garth help Sara has to mend the brotherly

relationship. In this special chapter she takes care of Dean.

((Plays before Season 8 Episode 6, Southern Comfort))

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"He just said he is not drinking living blood!? And you believe him. Wow!" Sam scoffs and picks

the conversation about Benny up again after they had travelled for a while and Sara nose is deep

into another lore book he had given her. She looks up as the fight between them reaches a

personal level she wouldn´t have expected. "Okay, no, you´re right. People do change!"

"Yeah, I get a vampire buddy and you turn off your phone for a year" Deans answer is so sinister

that Sara can feel a shiver down her spine, the venom in his voice clearly meant to hurt his brother.

"Don´t turn this on me" Sam retorts, restless in the passenger seat.

"Look. Benny slips up and some other hunter turns his light out, so be it."

"But it´s not gonna be you, right?" He doesn´t really need to ask as he already knows Dean will

not kill Benny. And Dean doesn´t really need to answer as everything is clear on the table and a

distressed silence settles between them. Pink Floyd blares through the car, comfortably numb,

preventing anybody from speaking. Sara noticed that that is Deans first choice whenever he needs

to stop a conversation or avoid dealing with his brother.

Sara sits in the middle of the backseat, literally in between the brothers and not sure what to think

about that. Dean had obviously killed someone that was a friend of Sams, Amy, so maybe a love

interest? Who the fuck was Amy anyway? And why didn´t she run away screaming!? Unable to

decide right away who needs her more she hides in the book again and tries to learn more about

ghouls.

After ten more silent hours caged in the car Dean finally turns in and finds a motel along the

Interstate. The routines build through the years function even when the brothers aren´t and Sam

rents out a room while Dean parks the car and gets their stuff. "Wow, did you pack bricks?" he

asks her as he grabs her backpack and watches her stretch her strained body. "Feeling alright,

princess?"

"Could ask you the same. That was some pretty heavy shit back there." Sara follows him inside as

Sam unlocks the motel room door and takes his duffel in the bathroom to take a shower and can´t

hear them talking. Dean just shrugs, fiddling with the keys of his baby not just ready yet to call it a

day. "Are you tired?" He asks next and his grins lights up the whole room as she shakes her head.

"I slept in the car" Sara explains and gets her jacket she had already taken off just seconds before.

Dean just shouts "We´re out" in the general direction of the bathroom, turns and leaves it to her to

close the door behind them.

The small town called Burns they found themselves in wasn't on anyone´s map, too small to be

even called a real city. But she liked it there. In between the local mom and pop shops and few

bars it seemed lay back and quiet. And the townsfolk were quite young in general. It had a gift

bars it seemed lay back and quiet. And the townsfolk were quite young in general. It had a gift

store slash post office, a pharmacy, some auto shops and even a subway which was closed so late

at night. This and the near Interstate 80 made it a perfect place to lay low for a few days, relax and

research till the next hunt. Not that they had the time to stay long.

Leaving Baby behind they both planned on drinking, at least a little bit and winding down. Deans

disappointment radiated of him in waves and even though he tried to be his cheering self around

her, she could sense the lingering foreboding of a big fight. Sara found the local water hole, an

irish pub named `McHaggins`, completely with the stereotype green walls, dark wooden floor and

some drunkards talking politics in one of the booth. The atmosphere was relaxed and on a first

name basis, it was a tight community who looked out for one another. Nothing big had happened

here in a long time and strangers were a welcomed sight.

Sara exchanged knowing glances with the guy behind the bar who turned out to be a very

talkative bartender called Cullen. "Two Blackjack and two pints of the black stuff" was her

straight but polite request and before she could choose where to sit, they had double whiskey and

Guinness waiting for them. "Uh, I like it here already!" Dean exclaimed thrilled at the good

whiskey they served, the Jack Daniels Black Label one of the more expensive ones.

„You really know you´re way around, princess." Dean says and guides her to a booth in the

corner of the small pub with a pleased sigh and begins drinking. The walls were littered with old

pictures, postcards and of course an american flag. The juke box was playing quietly, some

country music made its way till the bar, loud enough to be heard without disrupting the talk among

locals, giving a nearly perfect background to be drinking even more. "What do you mean?" Sara

is dumbfounded for a second before realization hits her. "I seem to know a lot about booze!" Her

big eyes scan first the two glasses in front of her, than Dean and then the glasses again. She begins

to laugh and sips the whiskey. "Not bad actually!" She licks her pink lips and the older hunter is

mesmerized. Dean just smirks, shooing the want away to be a licking whiskey off her perfect

mouth and waggles his eyebrows invitingly. "You ordered like an alcoholic."

She slaps his arm at that with a mocked, hurt expression and they both laugh long and loud. It's

the most beautiful sound she has ever heard before and she promises herself then and there that

she is going to make him laugh like that on a weekly basis. At least. "Släinte" she says, the gaelic

equivalent to cheers and clinks her glass against his before nipping on the good stuff. "Aaahh" she

makes a sound not unalike to those Dean would like to hear later in the night, say in his cheap

motel room near the bar and his eyes light up, showing the crowfeet around them. "Cheers" he

answers and drinking half his whiskey. It was the most sexual sound he had ever heard outside the

bedroom or any other surface for that matter.

A companionable calm sinks between them, both just leaning back and taking in the chance to

rest. "Are you answering my question from before? Or do I have to get you drunk first?" Sara

begins and moves a little bit closer to him so no one can listen in. "It's complicated."

"Dean with you Winchesters it always is."

He has to nod to that and takes another deep glance into her blue eyes before straightening his

back. "Last year … was hard. We had to gank those Leviathans. That are those with the borax

allergies. And we found a way like we always do and I killed their leader, Dick Roman." Sara

shakes her head as he watches her inquiringly. No, she doesn´t remember that name. "And his

residue or whatever zapped me straight into Purgatory. Monster Heaven. It was harsh." Dean

empties his glass of whiskey, pausing his explanation to gather his thoughts. Sara moves a little bit

closer yet and watches him in her periphery. "I met Benny there. You know a dead undead

bloodsucker. We … connected. He got me out through a human portal, it spit me out in Maine."

"Purgatory? As in the place where you go when you die and get tortured till God decides if you

go to heaven or hell!?" Saras face gets a little paler with the notion about that place, she had read

parts of on old bible that Sam had lying around and the gruesome stories about punishment had

her fascinated from the start. "Oh Dean…" Her hands lands on his forearm, his sleeves rolled up

and his skin warm to her touch.

"No. No human souls. Purgatory is … hard to explain. Try your forest with trapped souls of

monsters, not much to do except ending each other. We had to build weapons out of jawbones.

Day after Day. And me being the only human there, attracting them. I killed around 437 vampires,

127 werewolves, I think round about 39 Leviathans and a few more other shitheads I didn´t even

know they existed. It was repetitive like … hell. When you killed them they just showed up a day

later."

His calloused hands twitch and he hides it by grabbing his Guinness and drinking half of it in a

few gulps. Sara pushes her whiskey in his direction and lets Cullen discreetly know that they need

two more. Her thumb begins to caress his forearm when he sighs, a sigh so profound as if he had

the weight of the world on his shoulders. At a loss what to say she just leans against him, their

shoulders touching and hoping he can draw some strength from her. "You know what is wrong

with the world today? No one drinks from the skulls of their enemies anymore." Her answer

makes his huff and drink her whiskey in one big swallow.

She gets it now. Why he is so pissed at Sam. He tries to not show it, maybe even be happy that

Sam found his own version of life. But deep down, in the darkest corners of his soul where he

doesn´t want company, he is furious. Sam took the first chance he got and left him alone. He left

the family business. And as far as she is informed they are all they have left. Clenching her jar she

drinks some beer to distract herself from the mental images rushing in. When she had forced them

away and had prepared what to say the atmosphere changed immediately as some highschoolers

began unpacking music instruments to a small stage further back in the place, setting up cables and

microphones and connecting two big tv screens.

"Oh no" Sara mumbled with an annoyed look, as Cullen strolled up to them with another round of

whiskey and guinness. "What!?" he asked and winked already assuming what caused her distress.

"Its full force karaoke tonight" he explained cheerily and awaited her unenthusiastic nod. Dean

looked interested and with a slight frown upon his forehead so Cullen explained the basics to him.

"It's like karaoke, but instead of just singing and hearing a playback, the guys play every

instrument. So you write up your name here..." he was pointing on a paper list near the stage

"...and which song and instrument you want to play or if you want to sing and when the band is

completed, you all go on stage. We have quite a few musicians in our midst..." Cutting him short

Sara huffs "... and I guess even more drunks who think they are!"

Chuckling Cullen left and went to take care of other customers and Deans leans into her slender

body. "Are you sure you don´t like Karaoke? Maybe you did it a lot once upon a time!" Her blue

eyes glide over his muscular arms and the short dishwater blond hair, the stubble framing his

masculine jar and his astonishing green eyes that nearly glittered with amusement. His clothing

was clean but there were some wrinkles on his shirt, altogether he looked comfortable near her.

Right now he was even happy to be able to drop the whole purgatory story.

Gulping down a big swallow of her dark beer she just continues to look at him, making him

nervous with her hard stare and the nonchalant expression on her face.

"Soooo" he drawls out before the silence could get embarrassing. "What's on your mind?" Dean

asks and Sara has to refrain herself from sighing. "If I ever meet Benny I have to thank him." It is

clear to her that he doesn´t see the connection at first. "Whatever he did to keep you going it was

… I don´t know why but I feel like I would be dead without you."

"Sara" he breathes out with wide eyes and shakes his head. "Don´t say it´s nothing, Dean. We

have been over this!" The blonde stops him right there and he takes his hands up defensively and

says nothing. Instead they clink their glasses and drown the feelings swirling in the air with hard

booze. Most people seemed to think she was too cute to drink something so `manly` but Dean

didn´t care for that.

Quietness settles between them, Dean searching for something to say and sensing she wasn't

overly interested to continue the conversation. And that was new to him, normally he didn't even

needed to start it, the girls coming to him. Bumping into him by `accident` and showing their

interest in him. But Sara was indifferent to his charms and it nagged him a little. She had some

light blonde streaks in her hair, highlighting her strong silhouette. His free hand falls under the

table, slowly sneaking in her direction and he lays it a few inches above her knee in what he hopes

a companionable gesture.

To her dismay they are interrupted before they have a chance to start a conversation again by one

of the highschoolers strolling up to them with a big dog by his feet. "Hi there!" he says happily

and holds his fist up for her to bump it. Since she doesn't move an inch, his arm is up in the air for

a few seconds before dropping to his side again. "Are you going to sing with us?" he asks a little

too eager for both Deans and Saras taste, so she quickly shakes her head.

"Not tonight kiddo." "Oh no, come on. You kinda have to! We practiced some of our favorites!"

His gooey eyes practically beg them - he even elaborates on the fact that they get another whiskey

for free if they sing just one song.

"Maybe. Let me get buzzed first" she replies with a sarcastic smile and a wink to Dean, emptying

her glass in one big swallow. His admiration for here just climbed up a notch, she really could

hold her liquor and didn't even squint her face doing so. After another glass, drowned in a haze,

she gets up from the stool which she sat on for hours. "I´m going to hate myself for this. Don´t go

away" she winks at him again and he nods confident while following her with his eyes.

In the list she finds a song she is sure she had heard on the radio in the car she took to meet up

with the Winchesters and starts to debate if she should do it or not. On one hand she is pretty sure

she doesn´t like to be on a stage. She caught herself singing under the shower, yes, but that was

just … private. On the other hand she had done so many new things in the last weeks that this

might be just another thing she was good at. Like shooting with Flo. Or shortcutting a car. She

had to do those things in order to get to know herself and it was scary to push.

"You gonna chicken out, princess?" Dean says close to her ear, leaning against her back to get a

glimpse of the list and – accidently of course – press his body against her. Since she was just

marginally smaller than him, her ass had the perfect height for him to rub - absolutely accidently –

against. His hands trapped her in front of him when he leaned even further in and resting on the

table. Her head snaps towards him, their faces just a few inches apart. She can smell the booze on

his warm breath and feel his chest against her, a mixture of leather and soap reaches her nose. Like

in my dream! Clammy hands and a beating heart make it hard to answer him and she

unconsciously likes her lips.

"I don´t know. What if I´m really, really bad and the local mob grabs their pitchforks and

torches!?" Her grin makes the dimple in her chin come out and Dean doesn't move away from

her. "Are you going to?" She pushes the list in his direction, straightening herself and forcing him

to let her go. Biting her lip she looks at him as he scans the list. He always seemed so closed off,

brisk even, but tonight he was opening up a little. When he explained what had happened to him

he didn´t use much words, actually, he just told her basic infos. Not how he felt about it or why it

did hurt. Yet, she got it most of the times. He wasn´t an open book, not even close to that, it was

more of a feeling for the events in a book after reading its burb.

Disrupting her thoughts he points out a song and grins. "Let's do it together. When the witch hunt

begins I can protect you." "Ha Ha Ha!" She responds dryly. "If they start throwing rotten fruits I

´m going to use you as my human shield!" Her blue eyes glitter in the excitement and she writes

down their names before walking back to the booth.

They barely have time to drink a little more as Cullen reads their names and compliments them on.

Once on the stage she fumbles with the microphone, ignoring the hollering from the mostly manly

locals and the resentful glances from the women. "Hi!" Her melodic voice is thickened with a shy

smile and she begins swinging slightly as the drummer and two other guys with a guitar and a bass

joining in. Once Dean stands beside her with his own microphone she has to giggle and waits till

her starts with the first strophe.

We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout,

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.

I'm goin' to Jackson, I'm gonna mess around,

Yeah, I'm goin' to Jackson,

Look out Jackson town

Dean can´t hide his smirk or the light banging of his head as she bends closer to him, starting to

sing. Her strong voice sounds even better through the soft crackling of the microphone. Her taste

in music is as good as her taste in alcohol!

Well, go on down to Jackson; go ahead and wreck your health.

Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself,

Yeah, go to Jackson; go comb your hair!

Honey, I'm gonna snowball Jackson.

See if I care

He nearly misses his cue and stumbles over the first few words, hurriedly singing along the dot on

the tv screens.

When I breeze into that city, people gonna stoop and bow. (Hah!)

All them women gonna make me, teach 'em what they don't know how,

I'm goin' to Jackson, you turn-a loose-a my coat.

'Cause I'm goin' to Jackson.

"Goodbye," that's all she wrote

His chest tightens and he can feel heat rushing through his body, making even the tips of his

fingers tingle with an unknown sensation. She is perfect! She starts with just the right amount of

fun and sultry in her voice, dancing a little and not just standing still she instead waves her arms

and bangs her head.

But they'll laugh at you in Jackson, and I'll be dancin' on a Pony Keg.

They'll lead you 'round town like a scalded hound,

With your tail tucked between your legs,

Yeah, go to Jackson, you big-talkin' man.

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson, behind my Jaypan Fan

The last part they sing together, glancing at each other and he slowly whipping to the beat and her

tapping on her thigh.

Well now, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper Sprout,

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went.

I'm goin' to Jackson, and that's a fact.

Yeah, we're goin' to Jackson, ain't never comin' back

Dean follows her every movement as she picks it the whiskey Cullen has on a tray for them at the

bar and drinks it with shaking hands. Through the noise of the cheering crowd he can hear her

nervous laughter, a blithely sound that he instantly craves to hear again. And again.

"Let's never do that again." His emerald eyes are almost sparkling when she sits down near him

grabbing her glass of whiskey and downing a big gulp, trying to steady her hard breathing. "Man,

you´re perfect!" He hears himself saying and smirks his roguish smile which makes his cheek

flushed, trying to cover up the shock that he would say something like that out loud.

But Sara just laughs this lively laugh of hers and he is beyond falling for her. "Well, who knew

what I would do for a free whiskey" referring to the booze she grins happily, still feeling the rush

of the song. But the seconds she sees his eyes she can´t stay mad at him for pushing her. What is it

about him that made her so talkative!? "Dean, the last person that looked at me like that … I got

laid!" Still smirking Dean is actually speechless, hearing his words from her. Licking in a slow,

sultry movement over his lower lip he searches for something to say, when her body abruptly is

pushed against him.

It´s impossible for him to not reach to her waist and steady her, while her upper body presses

against his and her eyes go wide. Behind her two guys are pressing themselves to the counter,

waving for the bartender Cullen and ordering him to draw a few more pints. "Would you mind!?"

Sara snaps at them, her face immediately back to a stiff expression, her gaze changing from

amused to annoyed in the blink of an eye. "Oh sorry honey. You were good up there." One of

them says, looking down on her with a crooked smile he thinks is inviting.

Sara just rolls her eyes, ignoring the unspoken invite in his voice and turning back to Dean. His

hand is still on her hip, his thumb on her naked skin near her belly. She isn´t sure as another group

has started to sing but there is a low growl from him.

As the man still looks down on her he takes out a pack of smokes and lits a cigarette, making her

wrinkle her nose. "Dude, you can´t smoke in here" Cullen says, but shies away from the angry

look from the customer. The seconds draw on and Dean observes even more heads turning their

way.

"He said you can´t smoke in here" Sara repeats turning around to him once again and when it's

clear he doesn't comply grabs his neck and slams him nose first into the counter. Blood splashes

on the wood, shiny from all the wiping over the years and his cigarette rolls to the floor, where she

steps on it. Without further acknowledging Dean, Cullen or this dudes friend she drags the man to

the front entrance by his ear and shoves him outside. He really was too focused on his broken

nose to mind being shoved around by her. His buddy is as speechless as Dean, but the locals just

cheer her on and Cullen claps her shoulder somewhat thankfully before complimenting the other

one out, too.

"Man, I hate smokers" she laments and keeps standing while trying to hide her beginning panic.

Singing wasn´t one of her strong sides, it really wasn´t. But fighting in a bar seemed to be and she

puts her hands in her pockets to hide the starting shaking. The feeling whenever she finds out

something about herself is irritating and tickling something in her mind, a rush of adrenaline in her

body that makes her so freaking unsure about herself.

"You ok?" Dean whispers, his hand on her arm, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. "I

don´t know" she laments in a hushed voice and that reminds him so much of their first encounter,

that he just presses her tightly against himself. "Let's go" he orders and slaps some bills on the

counter, casts a short nod at Cullen and grabs their jackets without letting the physical contact end.

For a second Dean is worried that this douche is waiting for them outside but when he breathes

the cold air the streets were completely empty. He can´t even hear her footsteps beside him and

has no idea in which direction the guys might have gone. "Son of a bitch" he says to himself and

draws his hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. That was really not how he expected this

night to end. With hanging shoulders he walks beside the self-containt woman to the motel, just

keeping an eye on her, wondering what had happened to her in the past.


	7. Chapter 7

After the evening in `McHaggins` Irish pub Sara stays noticeable silent, she answers direct

questions, but just vanishes into research when the guys don´t talk to her. Worried, they exchange

glances from time to time and frown. If she sees the raised eyebrows, she doesn´t show it.

From time to time Sam, who is driving this time as Dean wants to get some shut eye, can see her

texting on her new phone through the rear view mirror. He can only assume that it is her friend

she talks to, she doesn´t know anybody else, right? Who could it be!?

Dean told him what had happened, that she snapped and broke some dudes nose because he

smoked near her. This in itself wouldn´t have been a big thing, but her reaction was. Maybe she is

scared of herself. Of what she is capable. But he just can´t find a way to make her come out of her

solitude and talk to him about it. Not that he hadn´t enough on his plate right now. His hazel eyes

seize up the limp body of his brother, sleeping with his head against the window and his jacket

over his chest as a blanket substitute.

The whole situation had all three of them walking on eggshells around each other and he didn´t

like it. Not one bit.

When they arrive in Kearney in the early morning he searches for a payable hotel that of course is

western themed since it's the birthplace of Jesse James and all.

After checking in they sit together at the small, round table. The dark wood is scratched from a

long time of use, but the room is clean and the beds are actually comfy. They had stayed in worse

and no one is complaining.

"How do we wanna do this?" He asks them and watches Sara blankly staring at him and then at

Dean. "I can stay here and you do your thing" she offers instantly and Dean raises his eyebrow. "I

thought you want to become a hunter?"

"Yeah, I want that. But I don´t have a fake ID or fitting clothes to pose as FBI. Don´t you think it

might be a little fishy if we all show up?"

"Wouldn´t be the first time we had somebody tag along. Come on, princess, get in the spirit!"

Dean encourages her and for the first time in over fourty hours they see a little smile on her lips.

"Nah, I´m good. If you find something I can hit the books from here and maybe come up with

something helpful." She gets up to take a shower and Sam and Dean change silently into their

black suits and striped ties.

Arriving at the place of murder they have barely introduced themselves as the local police officer

just sighs. "First a Texas Ranger and now you guys?"

"Hey Chuck Norris" Dean greets the slender figure in a leather jacket completely with fringes and

a cowboy hat. "Sam!? Dean!?" Garth comes forward, hugging both of them tight, smiling from

ear to ear. "You guys have no idea how much I missed you!"

As the three of them search the garage and house for clues, scanning everything with EMF,

talking to the wife, it is clear that Dean is not happy about Garth taking over Bobbys role. His

mood doesn´t change till they decide to grab something to eat and he drives them to a bar not far

away from the hotel. On the way there Sam texts her address, so she can join them.

During the afternoon Sara finally gets a hold on Flo and walking back and forth through the small

room they talk for over an hour.

"You´re awfully quiet, girl" the biker says and Sara sighs. "I have a lot on my mind, that's all."

She tries to dismiss the whirlwind in her head, but Flo isn´t having any of that. "What happened?

Tell me everything!" And so she does, about the night in the pub, the beer and the karaoke. But

the longest she talks about that dude and his broken nose. "So what? You took his ego down a

notch. This is a good thing. I bet it´s not the first time someone smacked him around a little. But

you stood your ground, be proud of that."

"I don´t know, Flo. Everything happened so fast. I was not thinking clearly, my hands just did it

and afterwards I felt… good. I mean, really good. Not only because of the adrenaline. But the

sound of his crushing nose and seeing the blood. It´s almost as if something in me was cheering

me on."

Unsure about her revelation she tries to calm herself and just stares out the window, while

listening to Flo´s breathing through the crackling phone. She had never told her about the amnesia

or how she came to tag along with the Winchesters or how she sometimes was almost scared

about herself. Finding out she was – maybe – a bloodthirsty brawler wasn´t high on her wish list.

"Sara, it´s ok. You snapped. Happens to the best of us." Flo tries countless times to get her to calm

down and it works after a while. "You still packing?"

"Yeah, I have your gun on me. Like, all the time." Sara leans against the counter of the beaten

down kitchenette and fiddles with her hair. "Good. Do outside and train a little. Get your mind off

of things. Enjoy yourself, live a little."

Arriving at the bar she can see Sam and Dean sitting at a table near the pool with another man. His

shaggy hear can´t hide his too big ears and the beige leather jacket makes him look way too goofy,

but she strolls over nonetheless. The waitress just put down another dish and he looks happily at

her. "Oh, thanks. Keep´em coming."

The brothers have taken off their jackets and dig in, as she sheds her parker, too, and waves a

short hello. Garth, who has never seen her, just looks irritated at his fellow hunters. "Garth meet

Sara. Sara, this is Garth." Dean introduces them around a half chewed chicken wing in his mouth.

Her blue eyes fixate themselves on him and like a gentleman the false Texas Ranger gets up and

reaches for her hand. His grip is stronger than she would have expected given his looks. "Nice to

meet ya, Sara" he drawls. "You a friend of the family?" Interested he offers her a chair and even

pushes a dish in her direction.

Deans green stare glides over her body which shows no bruises anymore. Her cheeks are rosy

from the walk here and her icy eyes glitter in the dim light. In a weird kind of way she was like a

newborn, at least when it came to anything personal. And that made her eyes wide and open,

trusting to a point where he was actually worried for her. She didn´t, but he knew what kind of

monsters were out there and after just that type of untouched soul like hers.

But whenever he turned his stare fully at her he was drawn into those glaciers. Sometimes he

could see darker shadows behind them, panic even, but she hadn´t felt pain like he had. Didn´t

have to deal with loss or betrayal or even solitude. She had never been to hell, never made a deal

for her soul or watched someone else do it for her. And that made him want to protect her.

Keeping her safe and sound, even against whatever secret she had, if it was bad (and it always

was, right!?) than he would whatever he could to help her grind through it.

Even her nightmares had become somewhat better and she had woken him only a couple of times,

whispering and crying in her sleep. But never screaming and kicking, like that first night. It was

hard for Dean to make his eyes leave hers and he couldn´t bring him to look somewhere else at all.

She just wears a plain black Henley, as usual without closing the three buttons in front and letting

just the slightest amount of cleavage show through the button tab. He is still wondering where she

got that silver necklace and if she has a pendant on it or not. She is wearing the same blue jeans

she had the last two days and a pair of sturdy biker boots. But her shirt is tucked in in the front and

he can see a leather belt with a gun as a belt buckle, before she sits down. And if he is not

mistaken, she even wears a little mascara, deepening the blue of her eyes against the black

eyelashes. All in all she looks good, healthy even and her mood is ten times better than in the

morning.

"She travels with us" Sam states, taking a sip from his beer. "Nice! So you´re like a hunter in

training? That are great news, someone has to watch those two." Garth winks at her and she can

see his smile disappear when Dean looks angrily at him. The waitress takes her order and Sara

decides on a big chicken salad and a coffee. "Something like that, Garth. They helped me, so I

help them." Sara tries to explain her situation without giving too much away.

"So Dean, give me the skinny. Where were you this past year?" Garth is very interested and looks

expectantly at the brothers. "Why don´t we save what I did on my summer vacation for another

time?" Dean avoids the question and Sara just observes it. He does that a lot. "Ah, come on!"

After a glance towards his brother, Dean takes a sip from his bear. "Alright. I was in purgatory!"

"Purgatory? Like, uh, purgatory purgatory?" Doubt makes Garth watch from Dean to Sam and

then to Sara who just continue to eat their salads. "No, the one in Miami" Dean retorts, getting

more and more annoyed at being interrogated. "Man, that's balls!" Cleaning his mouth with a

napkin the youngest hunter doesn´t see the deadly stare Dean casts in his direction. "That's not

how you say balls" in his answer and that makes Sara lay down her fork.

How does the word 'balls' become so important all of sudden? She feels Dean watching her and

notices his light headshake. It's stupid, yes, but she feels a tug in her heart as he includes her in

one of those many silent conversations. She isn´t even sure what it really means, her guess would

be that he explains later. At the moment that is not the important part, the important part is that he

includes her.

"So how did you get out?" Of course Garth has to wonder about that and Sam leans backwards,

so he can see his brother better. It is clear in his posture that he is more than interested in the

answer and Sara just focusses once more on Dean. This time it is her slight nod that makes him

release a deep sigh. "What´s up with all the hillbilly hankies? Those people know the war is over,

right?" Dean avoids the topic altogether and ignores the stares of his brother and Garth. Sara just

picks up her fork again and impales half a tomato while keeping her eyes and thoughts on him.

She can´t deny that she feels kinda special to know what happened to him, at least the basic

circumstances. He had trusted her with that two nights ago and she hadn´t told Sam. Honestly, she

had been sure he already knew. But he didn´t and that made everything weird. Shouldn´t Sam

know first? They have known each other their whole life, worked together and spend almost each

day of their lives together. Why could he tell her and not his own family!? And she wouldn´t tell

Sam either, it was Deans decision if he wants to share with the class. And he didn´t.

But at least Garth doesn´t mind and just continues with the conversation. "That is a touchy subject

in these parts. See, Missouri was a border state. So half the men were Confederate, the other half

were the Union."

"How do you know all that?" Sara asks interested and can see both Winchester heads turn to her,

as she hadn´t said much at all. "I went to College" Garth answers her and acts like it was nothing

special. Special, on the other hand, must have been his encounter with the tooth fairy, as he doesn

´t like to speak about it. But all Sara can see is Garth in a white lab coat, a drill in hand and blood

everywhere. She begins to chuckle at the thought of it. "What was she like?" She just has to ask

and grins, as she sees Dean smiling at that. "Very … pagan" Garth explains with a huff and starts

digging in again.

After the meal the guys get called away as another murder had happened, this time the son had

killed a guy in a convenience store and all three of them head out. Sara stays for another coffee

and the chance for smalltalk with the waitress, before she takes the fifteen minute walk back to the

hotel.

Later in the afternoon Sam went to talk to Miss Alcott and Garth and Dean join Sara for research.

"So what did you guys find out?" Sara keeps the conversation going as everyone is silently

digging through the gathered information. Dean had given her Johns journal to see if she finds

anything about revengeful ghosts and Garth is reading Bobbys journal with the same goal. "If it is

a ghost wouldn't salting and burning his bones suffice?" All the homework she did finally pays

off and she is confident enough to pitch her ideas. "Or it could be some kind of anger-spreading

demon? Like, he takes something from the past and multiplies the feeling?"

Garth nods enthusiastically and claps her shoulder appreciative. "She´s not bad for a beginner."

But Dean just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, till Garth shuts his smile down and concentrates

on his pages again.

Garth scoffs. "You´re such an idjit." Deans mouths opens and closes before he finally speaks up.

"Idijts is supposed to be used angrily. Okay? Not happy. If you´re gonna butcher it, don´t say it at

all."

"Whoa then. Okay. Look, none of my business but this have anything to do with you and Sam?"

"You had it right, None of your business." Even though Dean keeps looking straight down into

Sams laptop, his voice makes it clear that he doesn´t want to talk about it. Garth throws a glance at

Sara and she huffs, she had tried to mend the brothers and hadn´t succeeded yet. If you would like

to try he was very much welcomed to.

"Okey. Just seems that you guys are a little tense around each other."

"Ahem. We´re fine." With a generic smile on his face Dean hides his feelings once again and Sara

can´t stop herself from putting her hand on his bare forearm again like she had in the pub. His

smile gets more honest towards her for a second, before he concentrates on his work again. "Can

we get back to work?"

"Alright. Just letting you know that I´m here for you guys, for anything. I now sometimes Bobby

he would…" Garth doesn´t seem to get when he should just shut up and continues to babble, as

Dean loses it. Her grip on his arm strengthens as she watches him with big eyes.

"You´re not Bobby!" With a loud thump he puts his beer bottle down. "Okay? You´re never

gonna be Bobby. So stop!" Dean pulls his arm away and drinks his beer with a ice cold stare at

the other hunter.

Other people might have shied away from angry Dean and Sara can see that Garth needs a few

breaths till he has the courage to do so. His lower lip trembles, but when he speaks up, he really

does. Sara is impressed.

"Bobby belonged to all of us, Dean, not just you and Sam. I´m just taking what he showed me

and trying to do something with it. That´s all!"

"See if you can find something in his bourbon drenched book of his so we can get the hell out of

Dixie!"

An awkward silence settles in the room. Dean doesn´t say any more, his sentence functioning as

some kind of excuse. He doesn´t say sorry. He didn´t say it to Sam, either, Sara noticed as she

replays the last conversations between the brothers in her mind.

"Who is Bobby?" Sara wants to know, she isn´t afraid of either of them but didn´t wanted to

interrupt the exchange. Now she is curious who would cause it in the first place. Dean gets up,

bringing two more beers to the table and opening one to give it to her. He is clearly pissed how

this afternoon turned out, but he still takes care of her in those little ways that most people would

overlook.

"Was…" Garth corrects her with a sad smile "…Bobby was a retired hunter. Whenever you

needed information or help he was there. He covered us when local forces wouldn´t believe our

subterfuge. Man, he had the biggest library ever and he knew so much about monsters."

Another silence mutes the room but this time it is a desperate one.

"How did he die?" Dean rolls his eyes at her question, but she just looks at him patiently and he

damned her eyes that held so much love for him in this moment. Already connecting the dots she

is like a bloodhound and has figured out that Bobby was way more to him than a walking and

talking helper. So the oldest hunter in the room just watches the ceiling to avoid her and relives the

last moment of his best friend and father figure. "Dick Roman shot him in the head." After such a

long pause both Sara and Garth thought he wouldn´t answer at all, but he does in a painful

whisper.

Under the table he places his hand on her knee again and this time Sara lays her hand above his,

their fingers slowly interloping with each other till they hold hands like teenagers. Maybe if they

would have been alone she would have hugged him. And maybe he would have let her. But right

then and there it´s all the consolation he needs and he sends her a long and thankful glance,

squeezing her fingers lightly to show his gratitude. They don´t let go, even as Garth finally finds

the hint they needed.


End file.
